


breathing with broken ribs

by artisttsitra03



Category: RWBY
Genre: Abuse, Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - College/University, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Trauma, i'm literally crying i want a friendship like theirs, okay but blake and weiss are such best friends, super depressing but wholesome, the whole thing's a mess and chaotic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 54,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25603468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artisttsitra03/pseuds/artisttsitra03
Summary: “It was nice meeting you,” she says. Her eyes dash down to Yang’s name tag, to her lips, and eventually up to her eyes. “Yang.” If Blake was being honest, she already knew her name, but she just wanted to have a reason to look at her one more time.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna & Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Ruby Rose/Weiss Schnee
Comments: 28
Kudos: 150





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: abuse/violence

Blake twirls her spoon in her mug, keeping her eyes in the middle. Leaning against her hand, she watches the coffee swirl in a circle, in complete disinterest. She’s sitting at a table tucked in the corner of the shop, with her legs crossed. Her thoughts loom back on her book that’s sitting on her coffee table back in her apartment, all lonely, wanting to be opened and finished. 

It was a new addition to her collection as well - about two women who fought on opposite sides of a war and their relationship when they find a part of their lost soul in one another. There was so much complexity to it, but the amount of simple written intimacy between the two characters was nearly addictive to read.

She wasn’t far into it, she had to basically restrain herself from finishing it in one sitting. Blake had found it from a small bookshop located off the river, tucked behind a butcher’s shop. Honestly, she had no idea how she even found it, but she did. 

There’s a part of her that regrets not bringing the book with her - even if she only had a ten minute break, but she was at work. It was meant to be read at home. Her scroll vibrates on the table, and she checks it. She can’t hold back a low grunt building in her throat.

**7:40 p.m.**

**Sun -** **_heyy!! nept and i are going out for a swim tonight! i took some of the gear in the apartment, hope you don’t mind! also, took your leftovers -- took the sandwich! i’ll pay you back, promise! sorry, not !! xo_ **

“Belladonna, you’re back up, I need to make a call.”

Blake whips her head over to the counter, watching as white hair disappears through the doorway. Without any delay, she stands up and straightens her black shirt.

**7:41 p.m.**

**Blake - You’re an ass.**

Shoving her scroll into her back pocket, Blake goes to grab her mug and apron, pushing the chair in with her hip. She can feel a buzz on her butt, knowing it’s from Sun, and doesn’t bother to check it right now. Blake takes a small sip of her room temperature coffee before setting it down on a shelf underneath the counter.

Yes, it was nearly 8 o’clock and she was drinking coffee. But she’s twenty two, tired, and can get free coffee. Why wouldn’t she be drinking it?

“Thank god, you’re back. I didn’t know if I could handle another two minutes of her ranting.” Ilia groans quietly, her eyes rolling. She’s wiping the glasses, carefully stacking them up against the wall.   
  


The corners of her lips barely twitch at Ilia as Blake makes her way behind the counter. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

Blake hears a scoff behind her. “Please, she could care less about what I think. I don’t even understand why she’s even working here anyways, she’s a fucking  _ Schnee _ .”

“I’d be careful with what you say, Ilia,” Blake murmurs, her expression neutral. She sets her gaze on Ilia, her eyes saying otherwise. But Ilia has her back facing her, but Blake  _ knows _ Ilia can feel her eyes burning through her.

“She’s on a call. But how can you not understand what I’m saying? Her family’s company --”

“Ilia, stop.” Her tone is set, her lips are in a thin line. She doesn’t exactly want to get into this tonight. “You are well aware that Weiss is much more than her  _ father’s _ company.” Blake argues, her voice staying leveled.

Ilia scoffs again, throwing her towel onto the counter. She turns and faces Blake, hands on her hips. Blake offers a questioning expression and Ilia takes the bait.

“Oh am I? Last time I remember, it’s just you constantly reminding me that she’s Weiss Schnee. Here I go again, apparently, bringing up the fact that she’s a Schnee! I’m the bad guy, like always. Why is it so hard for everyone to understand why I hold such a grudge with her? With her family? Blake, you of all people should understand why I’m not exactly on good terms with your best friend, a fucking  _ Schnee! _ I still can’t believe it.” Ilia snaps, throwing her hands in the air. Blake can barely hear the shake in her voice.

“You’re talking about my best friend, Ilia. Watch it.” Blake warns, her voice very low. Almost like a growl. She can feel her eyes turn into slits, her territorial instincts flaring. 

Yes, Blake couldn’t deny the fact that Weiss had her father’s last name. But she knew very well that Weiss was more than just a name. ‘ _ Well, believe it, _ ’ Blake thought to herself, grabbing a bag of packaged cups and lids. She shoves the cups onto a small stack on the counter.

There’s a forced laugh from Ilia and it tightens a knot in Blake’s stomach. “Some best friend you have,” Ilia mutters under her breath, but Blake easily hears it.

Her ears flicker at a sound behind her, and she hums in response to it, retying her apron around her waist. There wasn’t exactly a proper way to respond to that, especially to Ilia about Weiss.

Blake knew when to pick her battles.

She hears it before feeling it -- the wind from the back door swinging open. She knows Weiss is standing in the doorway,  _ knows _ she has her arms crossed,  _ knows _ that she’s shooting Ilia a glare.

“ _ Please _ , if you’re going to talk about me, you could at least do it on days I don’t work.” Weiss says coldly. “Or you could just talk to me, I’m fine with either honestly.”

Ilia freezes, glancing between the two of them, her mouth slightly ajar. Blake takes the initiative, grabbing a wet rag to wipe the front tables, leaving the two behind. Two customers walk in, finally, some business. She welcomes them with a small wave, and walks over to a table in the corner.

“Save it, I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard enough. Actually, I think you can head out honestly, Blake and I can manage for the rest of the night.”

“Okay, don’t have to tell me twice,” Ilia snaps, going to the back.

Blake hears Weiss heavily sigh, and she gives her a moment to collect herself. But another moment passes and the cafe’s still quiet, so Blake was just about to help the customers until she hears Weiss ask. “Do you guys know what you want yet?” Weiss asks tiredly.

Underneath her beanie, her ears immediately flatten against her head, knowing that Weiss is in a sour mood now. There was a little bit of frustration building up inside her towards Ilia, but Blake knew better to not let it get to her.

She distracted herself by cleaning the rest of the tables, and once she finished that, she started stacking the chairs.

  
  


\--

  
  


“It’s Thursday night, do you want to come over and open a bottle of wine?” Weiss asks, buttoning up her coat. 

Blake follows Weiss through the back door of the cafe, a small shiver running down her neck as the wind blows.  _ Hm _ , she thinks, a glass of wine does sound good. But homework, she remembers. 

Turning around, she quickly locks the door, shaking the handle to be safe. “No, I can’t. I have to finish up some reading for my French Civilization class before tomorrow morning.” Blake says, frowning. There were three chapters waiting at home to be read, and she also wanted to get some progress on her new book too. Good thing she made herself another coffee before closing the shop up.

“I suppose, I have to look over my notes in Gender and Politics anyways.”

“Maybe tomorrow night after work? I could definitely use an order of pizza from Huntzie’s.”

“It’s a date, I’ll put it in my calendar. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.”

“See you.”

The walk back to her apartment isn’t that far, maybe three blocks away. But it doesn’t help that she has to go through the street with the most active nightlife in the city. So Blake isn’t surprised when she walks past a group of drunk fraternity guys, all standing around a trash can. She grunts quietly when she can smell the cigarette smoke, shutting the thought away when it reminds her of someone.

Another group of guys barge out of a bar, hollering at each other. The hand in her pocket instinctively grips onto her keys, her thumb idly rubbing against the tip.

When Blake hears someone whistle at her, she feels her ears flatten against her head under her beanie. She doesn’t know whether it was from the cold wind or from the whistle when the hairs on the back of her neck rise and the shiver that runs down her back, all the way to her ankles - but she’s confident about which one.

“Hey little lady! Why don’t you come over here and let me warm you up?” An ugly laugh emits from behind her, it forms a pit in her stomach.

Blake grits her teeth, quickening her pace. She doesn’t want to glance back because she  _ knows _ what she’ll see, whose face she’ll see. Her eyes barely look up, but she can see the street sign, one block left.

“Rejected Hector!”

“Damn bitch! I was only trying to be nice!”

Their laughter slowly dies behind her, only because she’s too far away from them now.

It’s been a rough night for her, honestly. She slept through her alarm and showed up to work late, and they had a surprisingly early dinner rush. Ilia was in a sour mood the entire night, but at least Blake had Weiss. And now, these assholes were catcalling at her.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


_ Blake winces from the sunlight blinding her, bringing a hand to her forehead. It’s warm but there’s a cool breeze, and she can smell the pollen in the air. She realized she was standing across the street from the cafe -- BB’s -- Beacon Brewster’s.  _

_ What was happening? _

_ Looking around, it was as if everything was moving so slowly -- blurred cars were barely moving down the road, blurred people looked like they weren’t even walking. There was distorted chatter everywhere, distorted noises. _

_ A fire truck in front of her turned its sirens on, the high pitched noise was warped, the sound of it was like, cutting in and out, Blake could only hear bits and pieces. Slowly, she watched as the fire truck drove down the road, the deformed sound following after. _

_ Blake had to cover her ears from the sound, it was almost ripping her eardrums. _

_ Why did it seem like everything felt familiar to her? _

_ There was a tingling sensation at her fingertips, something was pulling her fingers, pulling her towards something. _

_ Letting curiosity be the better of her, she walks towards the cafe, her eyes briefly glancing at the front of the shop. There’s the usual white board beside the door, though Blake furrows her eyebrows. Coming closer, she’s confused as to why she can’t read the board, it’s as if the words are smeared and mashed together, but at the same time, she can make out the lettering. There’s a date written at the top of the board, but it only says ‘April.’ _

_ She’s about to reach for the door handle until her ears twitch, and her eyes widen. _

_ There’s the unmistakable sound of a rustic motorcycle engine. It’s far away, but she can hear it coming closer and closer. _

_ There’s a loud pop, and it only confirms it for Blake. _

_ She knows. _

_ It’s a sound Blake is so familiar with, it’s ingrained inside her head after hearing it for so many years. She slowly closes her eyes and holds her breath, shaking. Attempting at a breathing exercise, she has to count to ten to try to calm herself, but her breaths get shakier each time. _

_ This can’t be happening. _

_ But the front door opens with an innocent little bell ring, and Blake opens her eyes, glancing over her shoulder. It nearly scared her, but there’s comfort to hearing it and she’s able to exhale a smooth breath. _

_ It takes her a moment to take in the scene before her eyes, and Blake parts her lips in awe. _

_ She’s looking at herself and Weiss, but a younger version. They’re so young. _

_ Weiss is wearing a red skirt with a white long sleeved turtle neck, and her brown boots. She has her purse on her elbow and laptop tucked under her arm. Her younger self, wore a pair of high waisted black skinny jeans, a white tight sleeveless shirt, and her ankle boots. Looped on her right shoulder was a canvas bag that Weiss got her from the Atlasian Art Museum. Her hair was still long, falling past her shoulders -- Blake honestly missed her long hair. _

_ Blake’s face softens at the mere sight, all of the anxiety in her chest disappearing without a trace.  _

_ They’re both just casually standing in front of Blake. Neither of them are in a rush to get somewhere -- neither of them wanting to leave each other.  _

_ “I can’t believe Goodwitch actually gave you an extension on the paper. If I asked for one, I think she’d actually laugh to my face.” _

_ “It’s as simple as it sounds, Weiss. I asked her, and she gave it to me. Not much to it, honestly.” _

_ “You give yourself too much credit. Let’s both be honest with each other now and agree that you’re her favorite in the class.” _

_ “I can’t believe you actually admitted that. And here I’ve been thinking you didn’t like me because of that.” _

_ There’s another pop from the motorcycle engine. _

_ And just like that, it’s all suddenly coming back to Blake. She whips her head around, her ears twitching again. The roar of the engine is getting closer and Blake can feel her heartbeat thrumming in her chest. The anxiety easily comes back, and it feels like she can’t breathe anymore.  _

_ A part of her wants to scream for all of this to end, but another part of her wants to see this to the end. _

_ Could she really go down this road again? _

_ Should she go down this road again? _

_ “Hey um, I have to get going, I forgot that I’m meeting my new roommate today. I’ll see you in class tomorrow.” _

_ Blake watches herself nervously wave goodbye to Weiss, frantically walking away. Blake watches Weiss mumble a ‘goodbye,’ confused, standing there while her younger self walks without looking back. Her eyes dart to the ground, and Blake can’t help but follow herself down the street. _

_ Blake wants to mumble a ‘sorry,’ but it’s no use. _

_ There’s nothing that she can do. _

_ Blake slowly trails behind herself, wiping her sweaty palms on her legs. Her eyes look up at the street sign, reading ‘5th Ave,’ and she has to take a deep breath. _

_ Not even a second later, there’s a muffled scream from herself, and Blake has to close her eyes, quickly walking to round the corner of the building. _

_ There was no turning back now, she was all in now. _

_ No matter how much she prepares herself, it never works. Nothing ever works. _

_ She can feel the anxiety coming back. _

_ There he was, his arm wrapped around her neck and cloth shoved against her mouth. Blake can see just how terrified her younger self looks from her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. _

_ “I finally found you,” Adam mutters into her ear, his voice sounding so raw, so close, so real. _

_ Blake’s standing nearly ten feet away, but she can clearly hear it. Blake lets out a small shaky breath, watching herself elbow him in the stomach repeatedly until his hold loosens and she uses her shoulder to completely break his grip and kick him away. _

_ It happens so quickly, and so clearly. Nothing happening between them is blurry, Blake doesn’t question anything about what she’s looking at. _

_ It was all so vivid. _

_ “What are you doing here?” Blake hears herself manage to ask, panting. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, shuffling her weight -- prepared to run even if she knew Adam was faster than her. _

_ Adam is hunched over, groaning, clutching his chest where she kicked him. “I heard you took some self defense classes. Didn’t think you were actually good though.” _

_ Blake clenches her jaw when she sees herself flinch, looking away. Her ears flattened, and Adam laughed, pleased with himself. He knew just how to antagonize her. _

_ “What are you doing here?” _

_ “Where the hell have you been? I haven’t seen your fucking face since Novemeber because you apparently didn’t want to fucking come home for winter break. Oh and not to mention you ditched me on the spring break trip I lovingly fucking planned for you. Have you even stopped for a single fucking second and thought about me? How you’re treating me?” _

_ “Adam, stop this. Please.” _

_ “You fucking left me all alone. Then I try to fucking call you, and you’ve fucking blocked me on everything!” _

_ “Because you’re delusion--” _

_ She watches herself gasp sharply when Adam slaps her. _

_ Blake has to bite down on her lip, trying to not look away. She can feel the sting on her cheek as if she had just been slapped, the burn of it. Blake’s own tears stream down her face, but she doesn’t wipe them away. _

_ Adam grabs her younger self’s shoulders, forcing her to stand upright, and pushes her against the wall. She’s caressing her swollen cheek, staring at him with horrified wide eyes. _

_ Anxiety races through her entire body, but Blake doesn’t move from her spot. She keeps her eyes on them, never looking away. _

_ “Please, sto--” _

_ Another slap across the face, and Blake feels her heart drop in her chest. The echo rings throughout the alley. She can feel her eyes shaking from the pain of just watching. _

_ Blake holds her breath, waiting and watching. _

_ “You just left me. You blocked me. You don’t get to do that. You’re such a goddamn coward that you can’t even fucking face me. So pathetic.” _

_ “Adam.” _

_ He knees her in the stomach, and Blake hears her let out another sharp hiss, coughing. She hunches over, holding her stomach.  _

_ “You’re never going to leave me again.” _

_ He grabs her shoulders and presses their bodies together to steady her, pinning her against the wall again. _

_ Adam leans down, brushing his lips against her cheek and then presses his mouth against her ear. Blake watches herself struggle, desperately squirming against his weight, but there’s no use. “You’re mine, sweetheart. There’s no changing that.” _

_ “I’ve never been yours.” _

_ He slams her against a dumpster, laughing. Blake cringes at the sound, hearing just how sinister and hysterical it sounds.  _

_ “Oh no, my love. You will always be mine, I promise you that.” _

_ “You’re delusional, Adam.” _

_ “No, I’m true to my word, sweetheart. Nothing is ever going to separate me from you.” _

_ “Stop this, ple--” _

_ Blake knew that Adam always had a strong kick, so she doesn’t know why when she watches him swing his foot into her stomach, she clutches her own chest, feeling the pain ghost over the area. Her ears twitch when she hears the faintest crack, a rib breaking. Adam kicks again, just as hard as the first time. Her younger self lets out a scream, Blake never knew she was capable of making a sound so scary and terrifying. _

_ It was the first scream that escaped from her throat. Blake knew she couldn’t hold it in anymore, knew her chest was collapsing inward. _

_ And yet, screaming, the one thing Blake was so terrified of doing because Adam would always hurt her more if she screamed -- and yet, screaming was the one thing that saved her life in the end. _

_ “Blake!” _

_ Something electrifying whizzes past Blake’s head, hitting Adam’s shoulder. He grunts, his entire body freezing. Blake can see him try to look over his shoulder before collapsing onto the ground, his arms shaking. _

_ “Hi, I need emergency services please! I’m located on -- 5th Avenue -- in an alleyway behind a red brick building. Please, hurry, oh my god, fuck!” _

_ Weiss runs past her, towards the broken body against the dumpster. “Blake, stay awake with me, please. You’re going to be okay, just try to stay awake.” _

_ Blake finally lets out a breath, cries, and screams. _

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


The second the class finishes, Blake slams her notebook shut and throws it into her backpack, along with her pen. She could care less about the content inside right now because she’s exhausted. She had just gotten out of her Gender and Politics class, which had gotten a little bit heated today, and it wasn’t even between the students. And by heated, it was just Professor Goodwitch going on a huge tangent, but there was no stopping her either. It went on for nearly the entire class -- a whole two hours of Goodwitch purely talking, absolutely no discussion or arguments were made whatsoever. 

Blake pulls the sleeves of her peacoat onto her arms, the warmth of it already satisfying her. She tucks her scarf into the coat, bundling herself even more. It’s the middle of November, and it’s dropped to about low forty degrees, but it’s still cold enough for her.

“Good grief, what a way to end the week.” Weiss says. They both walk out of the classroom together, bumping shoulders. “I’m surprised she kept going, I haven’t seen Goodwitch pour her entire heart out like that since sophomore year.”

“What about that time during freshman year when she went on a rant about the Atlas policy that passed that year?” Blake counters.

Weiss groans, rolling her eyes. “That doesn’t count.”

“You’re the one who brought up the assessment of femininst thought in modern politics.” Blake says, fishing her phone out of her backpack. She glances at it real quick, and sees a text from Sun, shoving it into her coat pocket. Eh, she’ll answer it later.

Blake grimaces once they walk out, the cold wind immediately hitting her cheeks. She pulls her beanie down further, grunting quietly. Weiss takes a sip of her coffee, unaffected. They’re walking down the steps of Vycant - the law building on campus, and in the direction of Blake’s apartment. It’s almost three in the afternoon, and they both work tonight, but they have a couple of hours to relax.

Usually they’d grab an early dinner before work on Fridays, but it’s been a long week, and they were going to have some wine and pizza after work tonight anyways.

“Mhmm, so I did, but I didn’t think she’d actually go for it. I didn’t do the reading for today, and don’t you give me that look.” Blake feels the laugh rumble from her chest, as she tucks her chin into her scarf. “So anyways, I was hoping to get her sidetracked, but I didn’t think she’d go on for nearly two hours. Besides, now I know what topic I need to write about for the exam coming up.”

_ There  _ it was, the real reason.

Weiss was one who rarely asked questions in class, yet alone brought up a topic to discuss about. Finals were coming up, and Goodwitch wasn’t going light on them this semester, giving them two papers and an exam as the final trek to end the fall semester. It was such a bitch move.

But thanks to Weiss, they now had a vague idea of what to expect in a couple of weeks, and what to prepare for.

Blake presses the crosswalk button, and crosses her arms. It’s cold, and she hates the cold. Well, she doesn’t necessarily hate the cold. There’s almost a warmth in the freshness of the cool air, with the simplicity of how crisp it is. It’s beautiful during this time of the year too, all of the trees are changing colors. How the sun sets earlier in the day, giving them longer night hours. That she can use the wonderful excuse to drink coffee anytime because it’s cold. 

Okay, so she doesn’t technically  _ hate _ the cold, just the temperature. No matter how many layers she puts on, there will always be some part of her that’s cold. 

“You know, sometimes during class, I like to think about a reality where we aren’t in that class together.” Weiss says, breaking the silence. Blake raises her eyebrows at her, and Weiss just rolls her eyes. “Specifically, where I’m in the class and you aren’t.”

“Thanks, Weiss, that means a lot to me,” Blake says dryly, a smile tugging at her lips.

“You’re very welcome,” she immediately replies, walking forward. Someone on a bike speeds in front of them across the crosswalk, neither of them react. It’s a usual thing that happens. Though it doesn’t stop Weiss from glaring at them until the cyclist rounds the corner. “You should be grateful that I’m in that class with you.”

“If I remember correctly, you were the one who had asked me to enroll in the class with you at the beginning of the semester.”

“Excuse you, I actually asked you several weeks before the semester started. And thank goodness I even found it too, it was the only class that even peaked my interest at all and it fit in both of our schedules. Imagine if I hadn’t found it.”

“Yes, I’m imagining it right now. I’m sitting in my apartment, enjoying my free Friday afternoon. Oh the wonders I could be doing.”

“Oh shut up, would you?” There’s a little snap to Weiss’ voice, but Blake doesn’t mind it. “Just be thankful that it’s a Goodwitch’s class and not uh, -- a philosophical class with Ozpin. Because we both know just how much you love Ozpin’s class we took a couple semesters ago.”

Blake groans, rolling her eyes. She shoots a look at Weiss, which she responds with a sip from her coffee.

Torturous memories of sitting in a hot muggy room with eight other students and Ozpin flood her head. That was a rough time. It was the first philosophical class she’s taken, and she vowed it’d be the last one. Well, from Professor Ozpin at least, maybe she’d give it another go in her graduate career. Or read some books on her own about it. Hm, Blake hummed to herself, yeah that sounded like a better idea.

Yeah, Blake had to admit it was nice to be in Goodwitch’s class together, but it was also an unfortunate decision on Blake’s part. Goodwitch’s class was taught on Thursdays and Fridays from noon to two forty-five in the afternoon. Blake preferred to have her classes early in the morning, any class after noon was a bit  _ difficult _ for her. 

It  _ definitely _ didn’t have anything to do with her ‘cat’ qualities, but she  _ definitely  _ did become sleepier in the afternoon.

Plus, she couldn’t concentrate at this hour either. But the fact that Weiss was going to be in the class with her, then that was all it took for Blake to be okay with it, to get through it.

“Ah yes, and here I thought you had grown tired of taking a class with me every semester.” Blake says with a shrug. Weiss fakes a gasp, her hand shooting to her mouth. Blake rolls her eyes, but shoots a small smile to her.

“How dare you think such a thing?” Weiss hisses, but Blake can hear no seriousness behind it.

Blake and Weiss met in their spring semester freshmen year when they took an introduction course -- Gender Studies, and unsurprisingly, it was taught by Professor Goodwitch as well. They had no intention of making any friends, especially since it was an introductory class, it’d be best to not even try. But Goodwitch, being the bitch she is, assigned a project at the beginning of the semester that required a partner, and it was actually Weiss who approached Blake about the assignment.

Then, things took off from there. 

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“When are you ordering the pizza? I’m starving.” Weiss asks, casually flipping through a book she picked up from the coffee table. 

“I didn’t realize I was the one ordering.” Blake says, amused. She hands Weiss a glass of red wine, taking a seat on the other side of the couch. Taking a small sip of the wine, she puts her feet on the coffee table. She reaches for her scroll, and pulls the internet up. “What do you want? It’s been a while since we’ve ordered from Huntzie’s.”

Weiss hums in thought, taking a sip of her wine, her eyes not leaving the book. “I’m feeling a margherita, and please, I am begging you to get me my own pizza this time. I don’t think I can stand sharing half a pizza when I know there’s anchovies on the other side.”

Blake lets out a light laugh, nearly spilling her glass, softly smiling. “There’s nothing wrong with liking anchovies. I can name a few of your own odd cravings.”

“I do, I have no shame in admitting what I enjoy. But I didn’t say there was anything wrong with your unusual taste buds, I just said I didn’t want it touching my pizza, it’d --.”

“Ah yes, contaminant your pizza, very understandable.” Blake says dryly, taking a sip of her own glass. “I know you though, and I know that you’re thinking about it. I know how you get a bit  _ particular _ with what I like --” Blake gestures at Weiss, who has her mouth open. “-- and don’t you say anything about how I like it because I’m a cat faunus. I already hear enough fish jokes from Sun.” She raises her eyebrows when Weiss shuts her mouth, looking away.

“Speaking of Sun, how’s he doing?” Weiss asks, genuinely curious.

“Fine, I suppose. His coach is putting him through some intense training this semester, preparing him for the season in the spring, so I haven’t seen him much lately.”

“Squeeze his tail for me when you get a chance, will you?”

Weiss drops the line right when Blake’s taking a sip of wine, and  _ bless _ that she has enough control to not spit it out. She stares at Weiss, completely confused. “I’m sorry?”

“He scared the shit out of me the other day on campus and made me drop my coffee.  _ And _ he didn’t even offer to buy me another one.” Weiss explains, not even looking up.

Blake groans, her ears twitching.

“I take that’s a yes, then.”

There’s no answer.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls between them as Weiss continues to glance through the book and Blake sips at her wine, her thoughts landing on last night’s nightmare. She doesn’t dwell on it too much, knowing she’d go down a hole. Plus, it wasn’t the right time for it. 

It’s moments like this where Blake appreciates her friendship with Weiss -- they’re both not much of the talkative type, but they’ve learned that that actually works for them. 

“So when are you ordering the pizza?”

And that was Blake’s cue to call the restaurant.

“Now I suppose, do you want anything else besides a pizza? It’s on me tonight,” Blake says casually, dialing Huntzie’s number. “Don’t start with me,” she shoots at Weiss with a finger without looking. Weiss huffs and takes a sip of her wine, knowing better than to argue with Blake on this. “You’ve bought the last two times we had take-out, and you brought the wine tonight. It’s okay, I’m offering, it’s on me.”

“In that case, how about some bread sticks?” Weiss requests, pursing her lips. She has a hint of redness to her cheeks from the wine already.

Blake raises her eyebrows in disbelief. She didn’t actually think Weiss would want more food. She freezes, her finger hovering above the call button, completely surprised. Weiss shrugs her shoulders, and turns her attention back to the book in her lap.

“Don’t give me that look, I had a rough week. I want to feel better, and the power of carbs will help me with that. Oh and I want garlic bread sticks, not the cheese, I’m not trying to destroy my skin for the next two months.”

Another moment of silence passes between them again, and Blake honestly can’t believe it -- well, she can because Weiss will pull this card once or twice a semester. But it’s not even anywhere near finals. So what kind of rough week did she have exactly?

Blake knew Weiss didn’t have any exams or papers this week, she would’ve asked Blake to study with her in the library if so, and she didn't have any meetings or court dates this week. So what --

She felt her ears flatten against her head.

Ilia,  _ ah,  _ that made sense.

Best not to mention it right now though, Blake would let Weiss talk about it when she was ready. She wouldn’t push Weiss.

Finally, after a moment, Blake dials the number into her scroll, and presses call. While it’s ringing, she takes a small sip of her wine as Weiss pours herself another glass. They’re about halfway through the bottle already, and Weiss had brought two bottles. Or maybe it was three.

“I’m so starving,” Weiss murmurs, slouching into the couch. Blake rolls her eyes, but can’t keep from smiling.

“I’m calling them now, be patient.”

“Hellooo? Thanks for calling Huntzie’s, how can I help you?”

Whoa, that completely caught Blake off guard, rendering her completely speechless. There’s a warmth that quickly fills Blake’s chest, and she feels the corner of her lips twitch. Blake internally debates whether to place the order for pickup or delivery for a few seconds, but she immediately realizes she hasn’t said a word yet. 

_ Oh no. _

“Hi, I need to place a take-out order.”

Yep, she just made that decision.

Weiss shoots her a scowl, her mouth completely agape. She didn’t like that decision apparently. Blake responds with a shrug, turning away from her.

“Hello to you too, and yeah, sure, may I have a pretty name for this order?”

“Blake Belladonna.” She says smoothly, setting down her glass, terrified that she’ll spill some of it. She wasn’t shaking, but the possibility that she would be was very high.

“That is definitely a pretty name, Blake Belladonna.” When she hears her name roll off their tongue so easily, the warmth immediately shoots to her cheeks. There’s a chuckle on the other side of the line, and  _ fuck _ , that fucking  _ laugh. _ Blake can feel goosebumps on her arms, the air around her getting hotter. So many things were happening at once, but it wasn’t overwhelming. “So, what can I get for you tonight?”

She has to lick her dry lips, biting the inside of her mouth. “Hi, yeah, I need a medium thin margherita --” She hears snapping, turning to see Weiss mouthing ‘ _ extra basil _ ’ beside her. “-- with extra basil please, and another medium thin pizza, house made, with mushrooms, onions, and extra anchovies please.” Blake hears a gagging sound beside her. She throws a pillow in Weiss’ direction, pleased with herself when she hears a squeal. “Then I also need an order of your garlic bread sticks --” Weiss holds up two fingers. “-- and two sides of your marinara sauce please.”

“Alright, alright! I’ll have those made for you real soon, just give us about twenty minutes and we’ll have them ready for you.”

“Thanks, bye.”

“Bye to you too, Blake. I’ll see you soon.”

Blake can almost feel the smirk from them as they hang up. 

Throwing her scroll onto the couch, she covers her face with her hands. She can feel a blush creeping up her cheeks, there’s no stopping it. There’s a screech from Weiss, her eyes wide, “Ah! -- what is wrong with you?”

It takes her a moment to answer because she’s desperately trying to control her breathing, or slow her heartbeat. Anything that’ll calm her down. She can feel Weiss’ eyes piercing her with a stare -- Blake feels like a prey being hunted right now, her ears immediately flatten against her ear. She has to take a sip of her wine first.

“I need you to come pick up the pizza with me.” Blake says, letting out a sigh.

“What?” Weiss squeals, eyebrows furiously furrowing. Blake almost winces from how high pitched it was. “I’m almost finished with my third glass already, do I really need to go with you?”

“It’s literally just one block away, not even that. And because --,” Blake breathes out. It was now or never. “I don’t know, ugh --,” she groans, throwing her head back. Why was this so hard? “You know I’m not exactly good with words.” Blake says, frowning.

Weiss scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Please, you are one of the most well versed people I know. Now, explain.” 

“Weiss  _ please, _ I just need you to come with me to get these damn pizzas.” Blake argues mildly, her entire face flushed.

That catches Weiss’ attention real quick, she immediately sets the glass down and turns towards Blake. Blake didn’t know whether it was her desperately asking, or if her face gave it away, but she was caught.

“Wait wait, hold up, let’s back up for just a second. Blake Belladonna, you have some explaining to do.” 

_ Fuck _ , what did any of this even mean? How was she supposed to explain what she was even feeling right now? That when she called and the second she heard the voice on the other side of the phone literally made her freeze, but in the way where her entire body goes weak.

“I don’t know --”

“No way, that is such a  _ lame _ start. Try again,” Weiss says, shaking her head. 

Blake furrows her eyebrows in slight frustration, and grunts. Of course, she knew what she was getting into once she opened her mouth. And Weiss wasn’t going to let this go either.

“Ugh fine, I want you to come with me and just --” Blake pauses, unsure how to word the phrase. Weiss looks at her, amused, barely keeping her smile contained. “I want to know what you think of this person that took the order.”

Wow, that  _ was _ lame.

“Are you serious? All of this because of someone you talked to?” Weiss exasperates, confused. “What happened on the phone?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Blake murmurs, throwing her head into her hands. She gives up.

“Good grief, you are so dramatic sometimes.” Blake shoots Weiss a glare, her ears twitching. Weiss smiles at the gesture, unfazed by the look. “Please, for your sake and mine, at least try to calm yourself. So you get the giggles from the person who works at Huntzie’s, what about --” Weiss shuts her mouth, her eyes narrowing. “Oh, you got the giggles.” The realization washes over Weiss’ face, and she has the audacity to actually grin, her teeth showing. Weiss falls over, laughing. Blake rolls her eyes, covering her face again. 

“I did not get the giggles! I just don’t know what happened,” Blake says, flattening her ears.

That doesn’t stop Weiss from breaking into a laughing fit, her laughter quickly turning into little uncontrollable giggles.

There’s those three glasses of wine finally hitting her.

A part of Blake wants to dump some of the wine on Weiss, but this is expensive wine, and she  _ wouldn’t _ waste it. Also, this was her couch.

After a moment of recollection, Weiss takes another sip of her wine, smiling. “Blake Belladonna, you got a small little crush, don’t you?” She teases, poking at Blake’s arm.

Blake swats her away, groaning. Weiss lightly laughs, throwing her head back. Once she’s started laughing, there’s no stopping her, she’ll just keep laughing for the rest of the night. “Literally stop, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Blake hisses.

A moment passes, and Weiss lets the laughs slowly die away. She looks over at Blake, and narrows her eyes. Blake can see her contemplating. “So if I go with you, and that’s a very big if, I should tell you, will you buy me some ice cream? Specifically and only from Myrtenice!”

“Sure,” Blake responds without any hesitation, beaming back at her. 

Weiss hums in thought, taking another sip of her wine. “You promise?”

“Have I ever broken any of my promises to you?”

“Nope,” Weiss answers with a pop. Smiling, she shakes her body excitedly. “Okay, I’m coming!”

The night was just getting better and better, Blake thought.

First, for a Friday night, it was pretty busy so that made the night go by faster. Second, both of them didn’t work tomorrow, so they could finish the two bottles easily, maybe pop open another one even. Third, they were ordering pizza from Huntzie’s and getting ice cream from Myrtenice, Weiss’ favorite place in Vale. Well, besides her own apartment of course. Fourth -- honestly, there could be a whole list to why tonight was going so well, but whatever.

Weiss takes a large sip from her glass, her cheeks filled with wine. Blake makes a face, her eyes widening. 

Uh oh. She was going to regret that decision tomorrow.

“I’m ready,” Weiss slurs, jumping to her feet. Her ponytail bobs back and forth. “I can’t wait til I get my hands on a giant tub of ice cream. Don’t let me eat it all tonight, otherwise I’ll break out for the next month.” She says, throwing her jacket over her shoulders.

“I’ll try,” she says.

She truly loved Weiss so much, they were the best of friends. There’s no harm to this, but Blake loves Weiss even more when she’s drunk. And she’d do anything to keep her like that, within reason. Not to make Weiss drink even more, but to maintain her happy mood throughout the night. 

It was definitely a rare treat to see Weiss like  _ this _ \-- and by this, she means Weiss nearly dropping all of her walls and simply being silly. She was silly, giggly, downright blunt, loud, and maybe sometimes a bit incoherent, but Blake wouldn’t have Weiss another way.

Though, Blake wasn’t sure whether it was the wine, or that Weiss was tired with what happened last night to the fact that she’s letting her walls down. Maybe it was a combination of both of them.

“Alright, but first --” Blake tosses a bottle which Weiss easily grabs in the air. “I need you to drink some water.”

Weiss takes a swing of it, drinking nearly half of the bottle, all in one motion. Good.

“So responsible, taking care of me. We’re always taking care of each other.” Weiss says light heartedly, throwing the bottle onto the couch.

Blake’s expression softens as her eyes gleamed.

They’ve been with each other for nearly four years, almost their entire university career. They kept in touch during the summers, took one class with each other every semester, and now, they were working together. They couldn’t be separated. If they were in any way, they’d find some sort of resolution to incorporate the other in their life, there was no stopping them.

Well, it was more Weiss finding a little opening in both of their schedules, and Blake always let her do it, not that it bothered her. Weiss enjoyed doing all of the planning and organizing, it was therapeutic for her even -- Blake never understood it.

They always had each other’s back, and were always there for each other, when it was their highs and lows. Weiss was there when Blake was going through the aftermath of her relationship with Adam, and Blake was there when Weiss was kicked out by her father.

Weiss held a special place in her heart. In her life. And she knew she was the same to Weiss, it was an unspoken truth.

Blake slowly stands up, grabbing her scroll and keys. “Come on, we have to get going if we’re wanting ice cream. I want some too, you know.”

“Yes, I’m starving.” Weiss moans, letting her head hang. She pulls her hair out from behind her coat, stepping into her heels.

Blake throws her coat and beanie on, her ears twitching from the fabric. 

“No,” she hears Weiss whine, her voice so quiet. “It’s so cold outside.” 

For a second, Blake thought it was because she was covering her ears, but she’s quick to recover. “You’re from Atlas, Weiss, this is nothing.” Blake says, opening the door. 

“Okaayy, but it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t like the cold.”

Stifling a laugh, Blake shoves Weiss out of her apartment, turning and locking the door behind her. Weiss hums, linking their arms together as they walk down the stairs. Content, Blake happily drags her best friend, the cold wind immediately hitting their faces. “I know, you and me both.” 

  
  


\--

  
  


Yang glances over at the clock, hearing Jaune shuffle behind her. It’s a busy night, there’s a lot of people entering and exiting, but Yang tries to keep a position at the counter for pick up orders. Blake’s order has been ready for a couple minutes now, they should be here any second now. 

She’s spent the last fifteen minutes internally screaming at herself, debating whether to even say anything.

“Hi, I know I’m late, but I have an order for Luna.”

That knocks Yang right out of her thoughts, and she shakes her head. “Yeah sure, give me a second,” she says, in a daze. Turning around, she rounds the corner to where the warmer is, looking for the order labelled  _ Luna _ . It was underneath Blake’s order, and Yang felt herself freeze for a split second.

But she ignores it, quickly grabbing the order. “So I got three hand tossed pizzas for you, and two sides of baked ravioli for you.”

Luna nods. It wasn’t much of a question, more of a statement, but whatever.

Yang enters the order into the system, and the next couple minutes is just finishing up the transaction. Luna thanks, and exits with a wave, order in hand.

She was about to turn around before Pyrrha ran up to her, her eyes frantic. “Yang, I gotta run to the bathroom real quick, can you cover for me please?” Pyrrha desperately asks, pushing an apron into her hands. “Please, just give me like two minutes tops. I need you to run these orders out to table eleven and twelve! And they asked for extra plates too.”

And with that, Pyrrha was gone, leaving a pad and apron in her hands. Yang glanced around, slow to process everything, but the sound of a bell distracted her.

“Pyrrha, order up!”

“Shit,” Yang mutters under her breath. She glances over her shoulder for a second, but has to restrain herself.  _ ‘Stop it!’ _ she tells herself, gritting her teeth. What the hell was going on with her? So what if someone’s voice gave her a warm chill down her spine, it didn’t mean anything. Right?

_ No _ , it just gave Yang a weird feeling in her chest. That’s all.

It took Yang less than a second to finally make a decision about the whole ordeal with Blake. After almost twenty minutes of internally struggling, all it took was a single second. Dramatic.

Another  _ ding _ from the bell brought her back.

Groaning, Yang wraps the apron around her waist, and snatches the pad off the counter, shoving it into her back pocket. “Nora! Cover the counter, I’m taking these orders out.” She calls out, grabbing the platter of food.

She needed to make this quick with no distractions.

“Aye aye!”

Yang grins are she hauls two platters above her shoulders, the heat from the dishes not bothering her at all. Swiftly making her way between the chairs and tables, murmuring, “Excuse me, pardon me.”

Humming, Yang slowly makes her way over to the designated tables, setting one of the platters on a nearby empty table. “Alright, I’m guessing the pepperoni pizza is for the little bud. Flatbread with artichokes and mushrooms? Grilled buttered shrimp pasta? And an order of cheese bread. You guys enjoy it.”

She serves the rest of the food to the other table before hurrying back to the counter. She spots Pyrrha turning a corner, and Yang quickly throws her the apron and notepad, hitting her in the face. Yang laughs while Pyrrha groans, rubbing at her cheek.

“Thanks so much, I’ve had to use the bathroom before this rush started.” Pyrrha murmurs, frowning.

“Don’t sweat it,” she replies, shrugging her shoulders. “You’re just lucky that I’m just as strong as you so I can carry as many orders as you.”

Pyrrha brings a hand up to cover her mouth, offended. “You wish! You and Nora combined have no chance against me.”

“Is that a challenge I hear, Nikos?” 

“No, not a challenge at all. More like a fact! But if you wanna, we go for a challenge, just remember to bring Nora, and maybe even Ren too. That could even out the playing field I suppose.”

Yang laughs, shaking her head. “Oh ho ho! You think you’re so funny.”

Pyrrha pinches at her chin, furrowing her eyebrows. She’s thinking. “More specifically -- funny, cocky, powerful, beautiful, sexy -”

Yang lands a punch on Pyrrha’s arm, laughing still. “That is my line! Do not steal my thunder, Nikos!”

“Oh yes, and I have incredible gorgeous hair that makes all the girls  _ swoon. _ ”

“Hi.”

Yang and Pyrrha whip their heads, and Yang can’t help herself when her entire face brightens up, her eyes beaming. 

She’s absolutely stunning, literally. The first thing that captures Yang is her golden eyes, just how much depth and warmth the color in her eyes have. Her black hair sits right on her shoulders, curled and messy, but it looks well kept. Yang’s completely mesmerized, and she doesn’t have a problem with it at all.

Yang’s about to open her mouth to say something, but Pyrrha immediately rushes towards them, arms open.

“Blake, Weiss! It’s so good to see you guys, it’s been such a long time!”

That catches Yang off guard, and she’s taken aback by it. Pyrrha knows them?

The girl with white hair giggles lightly as Pyrrha lifts her off of the ground, spinning her in a circle. Setting her down, Pyrrha sets her hand on the girl’s neck, gently cupping it, smiling. 

“It’s wonderful to see you, Pyrrha. We were just talking about you earlier today.” She says, quickly touching her cheeks.

In one swift motion, Pyrrha retracts her hands and takes a step forward, wrapping her arms around the dark haired. “Hi Pyrrha,” she mumbles, but Yang could hear it perfectly.

They briefly hug before she steps back, her eyes slowly meeting Yang’s, a soft smile on her lips. That moment automatically confirms it for Yang.  _ It’s her, _ she thinks _. _ There’s no stopping the pounding of her heart in her ears.

_ That’s Blake. _

“I hope it wasn’t anything bad,” Pyrrha says, laughing.

“Weiss brought up Professor Ozpin’s course,” Blake softly says with a small smile, eyes momentarily looking at Pyrrha. “How are you? It’s been a while.”

“It has unfortunately. I’m doing really well, we’ll have to get together sometime. I’d love to fully catch up with you both. Weiss, you still have my number, right?” Weiss barely nods, swaying from side to side. “How are you guys?”

“We’re doing just fine!” Weiss sings half heartedly and Blake shoots a look at her, who smiles reassuringly. “It’s girls night tonight, and we’re splurging on Huntzie’s and Myrtenice, Blake’s treat.” Weiss whispers happily. She clasps her hands together, bumping into Blake’s shoulder playfully. Blake rolls her eyes but the corners of her mouth twitches, and Yang’s grin grows.

“Yes, we’re here to pick up an order.” Blake says, looking back at Yang, her expression softening.

Their eyes connect, and everything in Yang’s body starts to scream.

  
  


\--

  
  


Blake turns towards the counter, amused, watching Yang quickly make her way around the corner, her blonde hair disappearing. She can’t keep her eyes off of Yang, there’s something so addictive. Something that keeps drawing her eyes back to her, pulling her towards Yang. There’s just something that’s emitting from her that’s exhilarating. It makes Blake’s heartbeat flutter a little faster, perhaps maybe even skipping a few beats.

Something, just  _ something. _

Blake couldn’t figure it out, and at the same time, she almost didn’t want to. She liked this chase - mystery - whatever it was - it was as if she was walking into something she could feel, smell, and taste it. She could run her hands all over it, but she couldn’t see it. She didn’t know what was happening, but it couldn’t keep her hands off.

But she knows that she wants  _ more. _

More and more. More of what exactly; she doesn’t know.

Maybe more touching, any sort of contact would be fine. It’d be more than fine, it’d make her feel  _ alive. _ Blake’s skin feels like it’s on fire, and maybe touching Yang would calm her nerves.

Maybe Blake needed more stares from Yang, needed her to pull her in with her eyes. To trap her. They were just so  _ magnetic _ , Blake couldn’t look away - she didn’t want to.

Yang comes back to the counter, three boxes in hand, a light laugh coming off her lips, and Blake has to look away. Distracting herself, Blake quietly hums when she can feel herself drooling from the smell of anchovies. It doesn’t help either of them when Blake licks her lips in anticipation, for what exactly, she doesn’t know. She keeps her eyes on the food, but she can feel Yang’s eyes continuing to stare.

Yang clears her throat, and Blake can feel her lips curl up. “So you’re the pretty girl with the name,” she quietly says, pushing the boxes towards her. 

Blake looks up, meeting her eyes and once again, she’s drawn back into them. Blake hands over her card, her mouth twitching upwards. She’s almost upset when their fingers don’t brush against one another when Yang grabs her card.

“If I remember correctly, you said it was a pretty name.”

“Why not have both? I think you’re a pretty person with a pretty name then. Well, more like a beautiful person.”

The fact that Yang drops it so easily throws Blake completely off guard. She can feel herself screaming inside, but she covers it with a soft exhale, her lips parting. Yang’s eyes dart down, her own lips parting, and Blake’s entire face flushes.

“Is this what you tell all of your customers?”

“Surveying the competition are you?”

Blake shrugs her shoulders, humming in response. “Depends, what do I get if I win?”

“What makes you so sure you’ll win?”

“I like to think it’s because I just have really good instincts. Or the fact that I always win,” Blake argues, lightly smirking.

“Cocky, that’s  _ hot _ . Makes me wonder what you’re like if you lose,” Yang says, handing Blake back her card.

There’s something in Yang’s eyes that’s taunting her, saying almost  _ ‘I’m all in, it’s your turn to deal.’  _ It makes Blake hungry for  _ more _ , there’s a part of her that’s desperate to wipe the smirk off of Yang’s face, desperate to jump over the counter and just take the prize from Yang.

“But I don’t think you’ll lose, you’re too beautiful.”

“Hm, shame. Now I’m a bit inclined to prove you wrong.” Blake hums, licking her lips.

Yang leans further on the counter, whispering, “Oh I’m sure you’ll be able to prove me wrong about a lot of things.”

Blake smiles, laying her head on her palm. “Maybe I don’t want to,” she teases.

“How about I make it easy for you then?

“That doesn’t sound like any fun though,” Blake pouts, creasing her forehead.

The blonde throws her head back, laughing, a smile so wide plastered on her face. It’s been such a long time since Blake’s felt this warm. Her entire body’s tingling, a sensation that forces her to tap her fingers against the counter.

“I never realized picking up a take out order was how I loved spending my time,” Blake admits.

“Only with me of course, I know you wouldn’t have it any other way.” Yang says, grinning loosely. Blake’s eyes dash down, vaguely imaging ways to wipe the smirk off her face.

“And you think you know me.” Blake infers, raising an eyebrow.

“Let me take you out, and I will,” Yang says confidently.

She stares at Blake for a moment, and she feels so entranced by Yang.  _ Fuck,  _ everything about her is so intoxicating.

“So, you never answered my question.” Yang arches her eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything. “Is this what you’re like towards all of your customers?” Blake asks, reiterating the question.

“Only you,” Yang answers without missing a beat. “No one compares to you.”

“How flattering, I guess that makes me special,” Blake teases, her eyes glistening.

Yang opens her mouth to say something, but a slap on the counter surprises them - but it mostly just confuses Blake to why their conversation was interrupted. 

“Blake! Myrtenice is closing  _ soon _ ,” Weiss chides, eyeing Yang.

Ah yes, that’s why.

It was girls night, and Blake  _ did _ make a promise to Weiss.

For a moment, Blake’s a bit annoyed with herself for asking Weiss to tag along, but she had to admit, she had a feeling something like this was going to happen. Blake knew herself. But she couldn’t help but be a bit sad.

Yang scratches the back of her neck, her grin sheepish. “Right, you have your girls night to get back to, and I have work. Maybe, you could come back sometime, and I’ll get you a free dinner, on me.”

It takes a little more effort than Blake thought to stop herself from asking Yang out for dinner right then.

“Only if I get to have you as company, I will.” Blake counters, grabbing the three boxes. She can feel a jab in her side, but she doesn’t take her eyes off Yang. 

Yang nods. “I’ll hold you to that then.”

“It was nice meeting you,” she says. Her eyes dash down to Yang’s name tag, to her lips, and eventually up to her eyes. “Yang.” If Blake was being honest, she already knew her name, but she just wanted to have a reason to look at her one more time. 

“You too, Blake.”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Blake takes the last bite of her second piece of pizza, her eyes closing in content. Yeah, she definitely needed this pizza. There’s just something delicious about a garlic buttery crust, fresh mozzarella, caramelized onions, and marinated anchovies; it truly hit the spot.

Her ears barely twitch when Weiss sets her glass down on the table, but she opens her eyes when Weiss clears her throat. Blake exhales a quiet breath, preparing herself for the talk from Weiss - whatever the talk was going to be about, she had no idea. Well she did, but she didn’t exactly know how Weiss was going to go about it.

“Yang,” she starts slowly, pursing her lips, not sure how to start the conversation. Blake eyes her carefully, curious to how Weiss would approach the topic. This was the first time either of them were talking about the encounter in the restaurant. They didn’t even talk about Pyrrha, their mutual friend. “I can definitely see why you got the giggles from her.”

There it was.

Blake rolls her eyes, though her smile sits. “Whatever do you mean?” She asks lightly, amused.

Weiss glares and Blake huffs out a laugh. “ _ Please _ , the woman screams your type, Blake. You didn’t take your eyes off of her for a single second, good grief. You guys haven’t even gone out on a date, and you were literally having sex with your eyes. It was nauseating to witness, not to even mention it sobered me up real quick.” Weiss says dryly, popping a small piece of garlic bread into her mouth.

Her jaw drops from pure shock. There was no way that she was  _ that _ obvious, right?

“Don’t even get me started on the  _ sexual _ tension between you two. I didn’t know what to expect when you asked me earlier, but clearly, it was good that I didn’t because -”

“Please do not finish that sentence,” Blake mumbles, sipping at her wine.

“Fine. Would you like anything? I’m getting my ice cream,” Weiss offers, rushing to the kitchen.

They’ve finished their second bottle, just opening their third. Weiss apparently brought over four bottles, Blake didn’t know how serious tonight was getting. But they’ve eaten about half of their pizzas and filled up with water, so they’re just  _ somewhat _ buzzed right now.

“Get mine!”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Blake scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Get mine,  _ please _ ,” she reiterates. Closing her pizza box, she leans forward to grab the remote. She ignores Weiss’ ‘better’ mumble, flicking the TV on, the news channel briefly flashing across the screen, and Blake quickly clicks the Netflix button.

She ignores the anxiety in her chest.

“I seriously think you have a caffeine addiction,” Weiss comments, handing her the ice cream and a spoon before sitting back against the pillow wall she created.

“You’re just jealous because it’s too bitter for you, and you haven’t found a sweet enough coffee ice cream.”

Weiss scoops up a large spoonful, “I’m -- ah -- per -- fectly fine with my sele -- ction,” she manages to say, her mouth full.

Blake had gotten a pint of cold brew espresso chocolate chip whereas Weiss had gotten an actual tub of pistachio chocolate chip.  _ Two _ tubs worth.

Her reasoning was, and quote,  _ ‘I’m about to be swarmed with papers and exams, and this will be my emotional outlet.’ _

And Blake repeatedly told Weiss that she didn’t judge her -- but secretly she kinda did.

But to be fair, Myrtenice does have the best and absolute creamiest ice cream in Beacon. Weiss, born and raised in Atlas, knew what high quality ice cream tasted like. Once she found it, she immediately introduced the dessert place to Blake, and they’ve been hooked on it since. 

It like,  _ hit _ the spot.

It took so long for Blake to even admit it, but Weiss Schnee has one of the best palettes out there, she  _ knew _ what good quality food was. And it wasn’t because the woman grew up with five different butlers and personal chefs, it was the fact that Weiss cooked her own meals all the damn time.

And she  _ knew _ how to cook too.

Blake gave her props to that because she definitely loved Weiss’ cooking. 

They’re both munching away at their ice cream in silence, with the occasional squeal of a brain freeze. Weiss is the first to cave in, eating what looks like the smallest fraction of the tub, before she moans.

“Okay, I’m done. That’s it.”

“I had a nightmare last night,” Blake blurts, immediately regretting that it even came out. 

The reigns just fell out of her hands, she didn’t have control anymore. There was just so much build up inside her, it was almost making her crumble, everything was falling apart.

She thought she was prepared, she wasn’t.

It feels like ages before Blake slowly looks up, only to see Weiss’ eyes are wide, unnerving. Her ears cower downward, and she can’t stop like the world’s coming back down on her again. The spotlight’s back on her and she hates it.

Could she really go down this road again?

“Was it..”

A small nod was all Weiss needed before she climbed the space between them and gently wrapped her arms around Blake.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


It was a pretty normal night for a Friday. There were the hoots and hollers from college drunks a couple blocks away. The sound of an upset toddler waking up in the middle of the night, crying two floors below the apartment. The partying bass vibrating the walls of the hallway just outside the door. A typical fire truck siren going off somewhere in the city.

But it wasn’t a normal night in Blake’s apartment.

There wasn’t any laughing or teasing, or a drunk conversation about politics.

There weren’t any tears, crying, nothing.

There were only the quiet whispers exchanged between two best friends, telling and retelling a horrifying memory. Arms wrapped around each other so tightly yet so gently, protecting the other from the terrors of the outside world, desperate to keep each other safe. Repeated promises were whispered and were promised again to the point that the ending of the world couldn’t even destroy them.

Blake didn’t feel broken or destroyed, but she didn’t feel whole either.

She was just there, surviving.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, that wraps it for the first chapter! Thanks so much for reading, I promise that's probably the worst bit I can muster up. Well maybe for now.
> 
> I've been wanting to expand on Blake and Weiss' friendship, and oh my GOD, I had so much fun writing it! So much rich platonic love, I just, *chefs kiss*.
> 
> I don't know how long the next update will take, hopefully not long.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yang nods and slowly spins on her heels, heading for the door. Blake’s attention goes back to the coffee because she needs a breather. Her drink’s gone room temp, but she doesn’t mind. Its only purpose now is to provide caffeine for Blake, her body’s feeling warm enough already.

The cold front has definitely hit Beacon now, and it was only a matter of time before the first day of snowfall came. Blake was dreading that day because  _ fuck. _

It was cold.

And she’s annoyed at that. Not even her fresh cup of coffee was warming her up.

And it was going to get even colder. There was going to be snow.

Blake’s always been a morning person, enjoying the stillness of the early dark hours before the sun’s risen and the start of the day.

But sometimes, being an early person was actually a pain in the ass because of how just fucking cold it was in the morning. The temperature was so low, it was the worst.

Then there were some mornings where Blake actually ‘enjoyed’ the cold weather -- but specifically and only when she woke up early enough to see the sunrise while wearing a warm hoodie and comfortable sweatpants, a fresh cup of coffee in her hands, and she could gaze at her own pace on her apartment balcony.

Though that happened on very few occasions, so most of the time, Blake  _ hated _ the cold. She was livid about it honestly. She couldn’t think of anything that could possibly make her enjoy the cold.

It’s even worse because as someone who prefers to take her time and enjoy the activity of walking, the cold was forcing Blake to pick her pace up when she’s outside, to deprive Blake of her happiness.

This was just rude, honestly. Blake’s from Menagerie, where it was warm, the sun was always shining, and she’s forced to live in this cold depriving weather.

But, Beacon is where she chose to attend school. She made this decision. But sometimes, a woman’s gotta let out some steam.

Huffing, she’s quickly walking to her Criminal Law Defense class. She’s right outside the law building when she feels her scroll buzzing in her back pocket. It doesn’t ring twice before Blake puts it to her ear, using her shoulder as leverage, already knowing who it is. It’s about seven-thirty in the morning, and there’s no one Blake knows who’d be awake this early besides --

“I like her,” Weiss says immediately, not even giving Blake a chance to bid her hello or even a good morning.

“Who?” Blake asks, smiling. She already knows the answer, but it doesn’t hurt to ask the question.

There’s an abrupt car honk on Weiss’ side of the call, and Blake can only assume she crossed the road at an ‘inconvenient’ spot. “Yang, you dummy. Who else would I be talking about?” Weiss says.

_ There _ it was again, the famous name.

A little thrum sped up her heartbeat for a second, and Blake suddenly felt warm all over. And it wasn’t because she had a coffee or her six layers she was wearing.

“Good because I was beginning to get the impersonation that you didn’t like her.”

Weiss scoffs, and Blake knows she’s rolling her eyes. “ _ Anyways,  _ I’m calling because I’d like to make a proposal. _ ” _

“We’ve talked about this Weiss, I really don’t see you like that,” Blake interjects, smiling to herself. Yeah, she has to admit that she’s been talking to Sun a little too much.

“I’m ignoring that comment,” Weiss hisses. “As I was saying, I’d like to have a holiday party this weekend, my place. Obviously to hang out with friends before things start picking up, so nothing too serious or fancy.”

Blake’s brows perk up, oh she’s excited now.

The parties Weiss held were  _ so _ great, granted, they only consisted of maybe ten or less guests, but still. Weiss had this  _ magical  _ power to create a wild party atmosphere -- it was so fast paced, gliding almost, but everyone went at their own pace, but in a calming manner.

“Okay, I’m listening,” Blake says, walking up the steps of Vycant.

“Good because you’re in charge of the guest list.”

That made her halt her walking, and fortunately, she was inside the building already, standing in the main hall. Blake sets her coffee cup down on a table before grabbing the scroll with her hand. There was a cramp building in her neck.

“I’m sorry, what?” She asks, confused to why Weiss would be giving up an organization duty.

She didn’t mind it, it was just, Weiss loved planning and organizing everything, right?

“You heard me. I’m planning out the entire night basically, so I thought it’d be best if you decided who to invite. Besides, you kinda know more people.” She explains, her voice going just a bit quiet.

“That’s fine, sure. It just caught me by surprise. Do I have a limit?”

Weiss hums, thinking. Blake is pretty sure she’s counting her fingers. “If I remember correctly, my dining table can seat six people, so four guests.”

Blake frowns, her forehead creasing. Some party if there’s only going to be four guests. “Weiss, that’s so --” She clears her throat, and puts her best impression, “ _ lame _ .” It comes out a little lower pitched than she would’ve liked, but it gets the job done.

“I do not sound like that!” She hisses, and Blake’s lips twitch upward.

“You said nothing fancy, Weiss. There’s nothing more that screams fancy than sitting and fine dining at a table. And four people, we’re talking about having a party.”

Okay so maybe there were some kinks to Weiss’ parties. But it didn’t change the fact that she could throw some great parties. Sometimes? Maybe get-togethers was the better term.

“We’re  _ civilized _ people, Blake. What would you do then?”

Yeah, a get-together sounds about right.

Now that Blake thought about it, maybe hanging out at Weiss’ had the  _ magical _ atmosphere because of the quality wine they always had, right? Eh, whatever. Party -- hang out -- get together -- all the same damn thing anyways.

But she’s going on her third year of living with Sun, so Blake has some experience of throwing parties of her own. Well, more like supervising. But she had a general idea.

“We’ll put all of the food and drinks on your dining table, and  _ yes _ , that table is big enough. Then people can plate up what they want, and we can eat in the living room and the parlor. Some people can sit or stand, you have enough seats for ten to twelve guests.”

Weiss interjects with a mumbled, “You’re paying the cleaning fee afterwards.”

“It’s a holiday party, Weiss,” Blake repeats, taking a sip of her coffee. “Not a college party, it’s a civilized party already.”

“Fine,” she says, but it doesn’t sound convincing. So Blake tries another approach.

“We invite people Saturday evening, we can have a dinner with everyone, casually though. No standing, I suppose. I know how you get  _ particular _ when people stand while eating -- and we’re not serving finger food.”

“Oh good, you beat me to the punch. I was about to have aneurysm if you didn’t say something.”

Blake rolls her eyes. “But we’re not serving something too fancy. It’s the  _ holiday _ , people are going to want to get seconds, maybe even thirds, depending on who I invite. Tasty, but in bulk. You can handle that, and dinner doesn’t have to consist of something that’ll blow people away.”

“But I want to cook,” Weiss mumbles, and she can hear the pout.

“You will, but you’re doing nothing overboard.”

“But -”

“No.”

“But what ab -”

“ _ No _ .”

“Okay..” The line goes quiet. “Just think abo -”

“ _ Weiss. _ ”

“Fine, fine. I get it. Is this what I have to do? Do I have to get the menu approved by you?” Weiss asks, annoyed.

“Not at all,” Blake quickly responds, her lips twitching. “I trust your judgement, but I wouldn’t decline any questions.”

“Thank you, that’s such a polite way of saying that I have to get the damn menu approved by you.”

Blake lets out a light laugh, rolling her eyes. “You’re feeding a bunch of college students during the time we’re all panicking and stressing out. You could give us bread and soup and no one would bat an eye. And you know just how popular your potato soup is, like, I  _ love  _ that soup.”

There’s a groan on the other side of the call. “Civilized!”

“Oh how I forgot,” she says dryly, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Anyways, back to the point here;  _ Yang. _ ” Weiss pauses and the silence goes a little longer than expected. But then Blake hears a muffled, ‘watch where you’re walking!’ Then, “ _ Imbecile,  _ but -- ahem -- yes, I’d like you to invite her.”

“Thanks for your permission. Do I need to run the guest list by you then?” Blake asks, smiling. She takes a small sip of her coffee.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Weiss mumbles.

“I do try. I have to get to class now, my professor just got here.”

“Fine, bye. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, Weiss.”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Blake needed coffee. Now.

And unfortunately, there’s only one coffee place on campus that is reasonably good, not exactly good as BB’s, but Blake’s desperate and she doesn’t exactly want to walk thirty minutes to get a cup.

So, in other words, the only viable option is Aura’s. 

Her mission was to get to Aura’s quick as possible. She hummed, thinking while quickly shuffling out of the classroom. 

Three shots sounded like a decent amount, she did have a cup of coffee already, and she doesn’t want to exactly go overboard. Yeah, okay, three espresso shots. Maybe four? Actually, she’ll just see how she feels once she gets there.

Blake just knew she needed the extra boost after today’s class.

Her Criminal Law Defense class had been a bit.. intense, for one. It’s a three and a half hour course, designed for lawyers to examine the elements and conditions of a crime, and practice how to navigate those defenses.

This week, her professor decided to tackle  _ insanity _ .

She had to tune out of the lesson for a few moments attempting to regain her breath, practicing a few exercises. Eventually, it helped her but it didn’t take the weight off of her chest.

It was.. difficult for Blake to focus, and to stay calm for the entire class. Her professor isn’t exactly lenient to let students leave during the session, unless it was an emergency of course or to use the bathroom. So, she endured the full time, her newfound special ability to twirl a pen between her fingers helping her keep her mind busy -- keep the thoughts at bay.

But still, the thoughts were there, lurking in the shadows of her mind. As if waiting to attack or explode.

No matter where she is, or what she did, everything seemed to always fall back towards  _ him. _

_ Him _

All of the time. Wherever, whenever, with whoever.

It was excruciating, frustrating and terrifying.

Because she couldn’t forget anything that happened with him, it was just impossible. And this isn’t Blake accepting that he’s a part of her because he sure as hell isn’t and will never be a part of her. He never was, in the first place. This is Blake accepting that  _ yes _ , she did experience something horrifying and traumatic. 

She had to remind herself that he’s a  _ real _ monster, and just a  _ real _ monster.

_ Real _ monsters can be destroyed.

_ Real monsters _ can be put in prison.

She had to remind herself.

She had to remind herself to breathe.

It’s been nearly three years since the incident, but Blake can still feel the heaviness that sits in her chest, on her lungs. On her ribs. She can remember, can feel the puncture of all six kicks she endured, the throbbing in her chest when her ribs broke.

Blake had to remind herself to breathe again, slow inhales and slow exhales. That’s what her physical therapist told her while she was going through the recovery process.

Sighing, Blake grimaces when she walks out of the building, the wind chill immediately hitting her cheeks. She squints at the touch, and makes her way down the steps. But the coolness in her lungs is a bit refreshing, the fresh air. Feeling her back pocket vibrate, Blake pulls her scroll out, seeing a fresh text from Weiss.

**11:33 a.m.**

**Weiss - help. Maureen just texted me and told me she switched with Ilia for tonight. It’s like the woman purposely picks shifts to work with me, please kill me when you have a chance**

**11:33 a.m.**

**Blake - Just kill Ilia because there’s no way I’m planning this party by myself.**

She exits out of the app when she sees ‘ _ Thursday’s class for Gender and Politics is CANCELLED’  _ pop at the top of her scroll. Excited, Blake skims over the email from Goodwitch, and she briefly glances over another email but it’s from her advisor about her spring courses. Eh, she’ll deal with that later. She pauses at the top of the amphitheatre, and pulls up her recent text notification from her roommate, and she purses her lips. 

**9:10 a.m.**

**Sun - thanks for buying some groceries!! checked the fridge this morning and saw tons of fruits in there, and you even bought me my favorite type of banana smoothies. you love me :) what did i do to deserve your love**

**11:37 a.m.**

**Blake - By being a pain in the ass, it’s my way of bribing you to stop scaring Weiss.**

**11:37 a.m.**

**Sun - come on, it was just a little scare, i didn’t give her ptsd :/**

**11:37 a.m.**

**Blake - No more scaring Weiss. I’ll pull your tail if you do.**

**Blake - You didn’t even buy her another coffee ??**

**11:38 a.m.**

**Sun - you wouldn’t dare pull my tail, belladonna. that’s animal abuse, i’m calling the authorities**

**Sun - weiss coffee order is like two extra shots, vanilla, oat milk, no whip , two ice cubes, and three more extra shots, no way am i buying her a coffee**

**11:38 a.m.**

**Blake - Ugh, Sun. Try to work with me here, I just need you to stop scaring her.**

**11:39 a.m.**

**Sun - but you only bought me two smoothies :(**

**11:39 a.m.**

**Blake - You can still do the pranks, but no more scares.**

**Blake - pleeasee?**

That should do it.

Sighing, Blake starts walking in the direction of Aura’s. Her ears twitch against the beanie when a cold wind blows by, and it makes Blake just quicken her pace. She holds up her scroll back up when it buzzes.

**11:40 a.m.**

**Sun - only because you said please :)**

**Sun - no promises though! love you bye**

That was a good enough answer for Blake.

Dismissing the urge to text him back, she instead shoves her scroll back into her coat pocket, and quickens her pace across campus. Thanks to the sun, it’s not as cold as it was this morning, but still relatively cold -- maybe mid forties? Plus a wind chill too.

Grunting, Blake tucks her head further down into her scarf, she can feel the redness on her nose and cheeks. It’s definitely colder than last winter, maybe the coldest winter she’s experienced since living in Beacon.

For some reason, there was a small voice in the back of her head that whispered that this season would be different, that this winter would be different. Her instincts in her gut were almost saying the same. Blake didn’t know if it was good or bad, but she felt it.

Because most of the time, her instincts were right.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Blake’s cutting through the mechanical engineering building when she hears someone call her name, “Blake!”

Her ears twitch underneath her beanie, recognizing the voice. Blake’s just about to turn and look around but a pair of arms immediately wrap around her, gently squeezing her back, soft ears tickling her cheeks. Smiling, she returns the embrace.

“Hi, Velvet. It’s really nice to see you too,” she says once they part, straightening her jacket.

Velvet doesn’t let go of her hand though, giving it a small squeeze. Just as Blake remembered her; soft, tender, and so considerate. “You too, BB,” Velvet whispers, smiling. 

Blake’s lips barely part in shock, it’d been so long since she’s heard that nickname. Four years at least, not since high school. Not since..  _ ah.  _ Nevermind.

“Anyways, it’s been so long! How have you been?” Velvet asks, her ears bobbing back and forth, unconcerned.

The wind is nearly knocked out of her chest, when she  _ realizes _ just who she’s talking to, making her  _ aware _ of everything. There’s something tight forming in Blake’s stomach when she quickly glances up at Velvet’s ears, and guilt quickly follows after.

Guilt towards what though? That she was jealous?

No, more like she was sad for wanting something that’s been so absent in her life. Something she’s been deprived of.

Blake has always been proud of being a faunus, and over time, she’d grown to appreciate and love herself.

But, it was nothing compared to how Velvet felt. The way she carried herself and held everything, from highschool until now, it was so liberating. 

Knowing Velvet came with a package deal of knowing what freedom felt like.

_ Freedom _

Freedom was such a luxury that people took for granted. 

It was running through the streets, screaming and laughing about the silliest things, knowing that there were eyes watching, but it wasn’t worth it to even care. It was standing straight without any weight of the world, confident. It was even feeling the weight of the world, but standing together and not letting it be overwhelming. It was loving and supporting each other, being able to do the smallest things in life without worry. It was being happy without having to hide bits and pieces.

Freedom was freedom.

That’s all to it.

And that’s what Blake’s always struggled with. She’s proud of who she is without a doubt. But having freedom? Knowing freedom? It’s been a long time since she’s felt that. Almost to the point where she’s forgotten what it feels like even.

“I’m doing alright. I can feel myself getting stressed now, especially with the next couple weeks.” Blake says, it comes out shakier than she imagined. She doesn’t say anymore, not trusting her voice and not wanting to worry Velvet.

If Velvet did hear the shakiness, she doesn’t show a response to it. “I bet, you’re in your last year, right? Political science last I remember?”

Blake offers a smile, shaking her head. It was as if Velvet could sense the tension from Blake and changed the topic. “No, I’m a criminal law student now and I’ll be finished in the spring,” Blake replies, holding up her law textbook she was holding. She came to the university as a political science student, but later changed after her freshman year.

Velvet blinks, looking down at the textbook, then up to meet her eyes, and grins. It’s a wobbly grin. “I always thought you’d make a good lawyer. The world needs more faunus lawyers.”

Just like that, all of the guilt and anxiety that formed in her stomach minutes ago, disappeared so easily.

There’s something about hearing someone Blake knows, say that to her. Someone who grew up with her and knew about the horrors and hardships she went through as a faunus. It made her feel good -- not good, but confident. They were simple words, but each word carried a different kind of momentum, hitting Blake in the chest, in the heart at different rates with different meanings.

But there’s the fact that Blake is in her senior year, and there are only twenty-eight students in the law department, and she’s met every single one of them. Then there’s the  _ fact _ that Blake is the only faunus student in the department, the  _ only  _ one.

So yeah, hearing Velvet say that to her just does something to Blake’s heart.

And Blake smiles, like, really smiles.

She almost feels goofy for smiling so big, but it doesn’t matter to her.

“Thanks, Velvet. That really means a lot to hear you say that,” she softly says, her body tingling. She felt light, as if she could float away right then. “How are you? And Coco? I’m surprised you guys haven’t moved off, considering Coco won the national award a couple years ago.”

Velvet beams, swaying her head from side to side, her ears flopping. “I’m good! I’m finishing up my master’s here, I have a project that I’ve been working on since the summer.”

She doesn’t say anything further, so Blake concludes she’s done talking about it or maybe..

“I’m guessing you can’t tell me because it’s a secret?” Blake asks, raising a brow.

“Yeah,” Velvet whispers, rubbing the back of her neck. “Coco’s the only who knows which I mean, I can’t do much about that since I live with her,” she says sheepishly, her ears leaning inward, twitching when they touch each other.

“How is Coco?”

“She’s doing great, wonderful honestly. She finished her master’s in industrial engineering last spring, so she’s taking some time off to relax right now. Just relaxing, honestly -- oh! -- we rescued a little two year old collie, Coco named her Miso, so she’s been training her. Actually, she has been helping out a few professors with a few seminars, now I think about it, some extra money here and there. But she’s been spending most of her time at her studio working on a project, she won’t clue me on it. I think she’s hiding it from me on purpose, that’s Coco for you though.  _ Fuck _ \-- I’m rambling -- sorry.”

Blake shakes her head, not minding one bit. “It’s okay,” she reassures, placing a handle on Velvet’s shoulder.

It was comforting to see Velvet express her love towards Coco, even if it was in the form of a ramble. That just meant Coco held a place in every aspect of Velvet’s mind and heart.

She’s always been fond of their relationship -- looked up to it honestly. They were so animated with one another, and so tender. And inspiring.

A little ping had hit Blake’s heart when Velvet introduced Coco to Blake as her girlfriend. A faunus and a human dating wasn’t exactly a rare thing to see, but just knowing someone personal was a bit new to Blake. But the second she met Coco, Blake remembered she felt the happiest for Velvet, for both of them. They truly are so good for each other.

“But, how are you doing? Really?” Velvet pushes, her stare lingering just a little longer than usual.

Blake shrugs her shoulders, not exactly sure how to respond. “I’m doing okay. I’ll have my ‘bad’ days every now and then, but I get through them. My chest has been feeling better though.” She says, immediately clenching her jaw, knowing she shouldn’t have to lie to Velvet.

Truthfully, there’s been little sharp punctures in her chest every now and then, but Velvet didn’t need to know about that.

Velvet gives her a smile, taking a small step forward to bump their shoulders together. “I’m always here for you, you know.”

“I know, thank you.”

“And so is Coco. Oh -- and you have to meet little Miso.”

“Ehh, I don’t know Velvet, you know I’ve never really liked being around dogs.” Blake has to remind her, frowning. She didn’t just not like dogs, she  _ hated  _ dogs.

“Hey, speaking of meeting someone. Hey Ruby, hey! Come over here,” Velvet calls out to a small black haired student in a bright red hoodie.

Blake sees the girl freeze mid-skip, glancing around until her eyes settle on a waving Velvet. Her brows perk up, and she quickly trots over to them, a big smile plastered on her face.

“Hi Velvet, are we still having our meeting today?”

“Yeah, but I want to introduce you to someone first. Blake, this is my undergrad student that I’m mentoring for the semester, Ruby Rose. Ruby, this is Blake, one of my childhood friends. She’s in the law program, so if you ever need a bail, you should give her a call.”

Lightly laughing, Blake shakes her head and bumps her shoulder, giving her a look.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Blake!” Ruby exclaims, holding out a hand. Blake can immediately notice the sweet and warm character she carries, and it vaguely reminds her of someone.

“Likewise,” Blake replies, shaking her hand.

“Ruby here, is a mechanical engineer, and top of the junior class too.”

There’s quiet giggles from Ruby, and Blake can see a blush forming on her cheeks. Her lips curl, an idea popping in her head.

“You give me too much credit, Velvet.”

“You’re under Velvet’s wing, I think you’ll be more than just top of the class. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re getting some ‘extra’ tips from Coco too. And I’m sure by the time you graduate, you’ll not only have one national award, but two.” Blake says, meeting Ruby’s eyes.

The face Ruby makes is quite frankly, pretty adorable.

“Aw, thank you, Blake!” Ruby cries, jumping into Blake, wrapping her arms around her. Caught by surprise, Blake’s slow to react, but she hugs her back. “I know we just met, but you’re really the best -- that like, totally made my day!!”

“The day isn’t over yet,” Blake says, taking a step back, but Ruby shakes her head, obviously thinking otherwise.

“Then -- um -- it’ll take something really really great to even one up what you said then!” Both Blake and Velvet laugh, and Ruby just blinks at them. “Wait, what time is it?” Ruby frantically pulls her scroll out of her jacket, and realizes it’s almost noon. “Shit! I have to meet my sister before my class. I’ll see you later today, Velvet. It was really nice meeting you Blake!!”

“Tell her I said hi, would ya!” Velvet hollers.

“I will!”

Blake watches her quickly running away, going through a door and disappearing off somewhere in the building. Velvet lightly laughs, shaking her head.

“She’s a sweet girl, thank you for introducing me.” Blake says, her expression softening.

Velvet bobs her head, her ears doing the same. “She really is, I’m lucky to mentor her,” she murmurs, smiling. She glances over at Blake, one of her ears twitching. Blake’s mouth curls, raising an eyebrow, waiting, asking.

“You should meet Ruby’s sister sometime, I think you’d really like her.”

Blake nods, giving it a thought. She trusted Velvet’s judgement, and if she’s Ruby’s sister, Blake had a feeling she’d like her no matter what. 

“Okay,” is all she says.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“Hey sorry to bother you, but you look a little familiar,” Blake overhears from behind. It’s loud in the cafe, but her ears immediately perk up at the familiar voice, and she can’t stop a rush running through her body. Turning around, she licks her lips in anticipation.

Yang walks to the edge of the table, and leans close to her, there was almost a metallic taste around her, but Blake could easily smell a mixture of sandalwood and amber under it.  _ Mhmn, _ she’d have to make a note later to find a candle of those scents.

In her hand is a wrapped sandwich, which Blake can only guess she just bought and there’s also a water bottle tucked under her arm. 

Blake’s eyes slowly sweep up and down Yang’s body, dangerously curious what she looks like under those clothes.

Her hair’s thrown up in a messy bun. She’s wearing a plain brown hoodie that looks immensely warm and comfortable, and all looks a bit familiar. There’s an orange scarf wrapped around her neck, tucked into her hoodie. She has on a pair of acid washed black jeans and black boots.

Gorgeous, completely gorgeous.

She has this goofy grin on her face, but yet she’s  _ intensely _ staring at Blake with this deep hunger almost. But if anything, it draws Blake in more because she has the same feeling in her own eyes.

There they are again, Blake thought, those damn lilac eyes. Her lips part as she lets out a small breath, scanning Yang’s face. Not for anything in particular, but just to look at.

“Maybe it’s because I’m the woman in your dreams?” Blake teases, her lips curling upward.

But more like, Yang’s the woman of  _ her  _ dreams because fuck. She truly is. Blake won’t tell her that though, at least not right now.

She watches Yang bite her bottom lip, sheepishly looking away.

Was that Yang’s way of just admitting she’s actually been dreaming about Blake? Did she just get caught?

Blake smiles, very pleased with herself for finally surprising her. This is only their second conversation, but the first one, Yang had something to say every time. It was a bit nice to catch her off guard, she wonders how else she can do it.

Curiously, Blake murmurs, “I didn’t think I was a part of  _ those _ kinds of dreams you have.”

The reaction was immediate, Yang’s jaw drops and she looks at Blake with wide eyes, caught by surprise. Blake can see just how red her cheeks were getting. Bringing the back of her hand, Yang covers her mouth, letting a light laugh, and Blake tries to think of more ways to make her laugh.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just -- like -- just give me a second.”

“Please take your time, no rush,” Blake says,  _ very _ very pleased with herself.

“ _ Fuck _ , I’ve been thinking about you all week, and I’m having a hard time trying to figure out what to say. Bear with me, please.”

She nods, not trusting herself if she were to open her mouth. Blake would be lying if she said she hasn’t been thinking about Yang all week as well.

Blake has to lick her lips, it’s the next best thing to do besides jumping out of her seat and doing the other possibility that’d make Yang speechless. But Yang’s not the only one who’s speechless because Blake also doesn’t know what to say after Yang’s confession.

Yang lets out a heavy breath, rolling her shoulders. “Okay, how about we start from the top? Simple questions.”

Simple, sure. Blake could do simple. “That seems reasonable, why don’t you start?”

“Did you have class today?” Yang asks, eyeing down at her law book.

Blake’s mouth twitches, that wasn’t exactly the question she was expecting Yang to start with. But who knows what other surprises Yang has up her sleeve. “Yeah, just finished about an hour ago actually,” she replies. 

“So.. you’re a law student? That sounds.. fun?”

It’s a typical response from most people, but for some reason, it doesn’t bother Blake enough because she can feel her eyes light up for a split second when Yang offers a grin.

“Oh yes, very fun indeed,” she says dryly, and Yang’s grin only grows wider.

“Cool,” Yang says, nodding her head. Blake almost wants to laugh, but instead she bites down on her tongue, suppressing it.

“Are you -” Blake motions at the sandwich.

Yang looks down, her brows raising, looking as if she had forgotten about it. “I’m actually in class right now, well, in my studio class. But I’m in a bit of a pinch, so I thought I’d get myself some food because food always fixes everything.”

“Studio?” She hums, quirking her eyebrows. “Does that mean you’re an art student?”

Yang grins, shaking her head. “No, I don’t think I have the creative outlook for art. I’m actually a biomedical engineering student. Studio is what I tend to call my independent study for my design class because I’m at my desk for about six or seven hours working on my project.”

Her ears perk up, surprised. It was an engineering frenzy today or something; Velvet, Ruby, and now Yang. Where was Coco?

“Oh wow, that sounds.. a bit intense -- the biomedical engineering part.”

“It’s not too bad, the main thing that usually bums people out is the biological computation designs and figuring out macromolecular systems.”

Blake hums. “Is that it? You’re right, it doesn’t sound bad at all.”

Yang bites her bottom lip, the corners of her mouth twitching. Blake’s eyes dart down, and her own lips part. But they part even further when Yang licks over the bite, her eyes immediately meeting Yang’s.  _ Fuck _ , her eyes were even brighter than before, and when did lilac start becoming her favorite color?

Blake felt her own pupils dilate, slowly widening.

She immediately forgets about simple -- forgets everything because there’s something inside Blake that ignites, and she has no intention of putting it out. She imagines Yang would turn this ignition into an explosion, but nothing would be blown away or broken.

Within seconds, everything in Blake’s body went from a comfortable anxious warmth to a wild uncontrollable flame that was making her hotter and  _ hotter. _

Clearing her throat, she remembers they’re in  _ public _ , on campus with people around. Blake has to take a sip of her coffee, stalling, and she knows Yang knows what she’s doing. And it doesn’t help that her coffee’s still burning hot, and she gets even  _ hotter. _

“Yang,” Blake manages to say, coming out as a whisper. She quickly takes another small sip, ignoring the burn throbbing in her throat. Looking up, she slowly blinks, until their eyes meet again. It takes so much effort on Blake’s part to not be drawn in again -- ‘ _ holiday party. _ ’ “Are you free next weekend?”

“Yeah!” Blake’s ears twitch, taken back just a little. “I mean yeah, yeah, I am.”

She feels her heartbeat dancing again, but she pushes through it. “Good, because I’m inviting you to a holiday party next Saturday Weiss and I are having.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out, smiling.

“I’ll be there then.” Yang says, leaning further on the table. Then her forehead suddenly creases, and she coughs. “But hey, would you mind if I brought my little sister? She needs help with the whole ‘networking’ ordeal.”

“How little are we talking about?” Blake teases. 

“Not that little, she’s like, ten years old,” Yang replies, breaking out into a grin.

Blake, narrows her eyes just a bit, giving a sly smile. “I didn’t think ten year old girls needed help with their networking skills.”

“She’s like this prodigy or whatever.”

“Well I can tell you right now that she probably won’t be the life of the party.”

Laughing, Yang shifts her body closer down the table, closer to her. “Great, because I’m the life of the party. No but actually, my sister’s just a year younger than me.”

“And just how old are you?”

Yang’s mouth drops, quietly gasping. “Hasn’t anyone told you that it’s rude to ask for a woman’s age!”

“I’m twenty two.” 

“Okay good, we’re the same age, phew, that was close” Yang says, relieved. She wipes her brow.

The corner of Blake’s lips curl, amused. “I bet I’m older though.”

“Yeah right, my birthday is in August.”

Blake leans up towards Yang, sitting on the edge of her seat. “Proven  _ wrong. _ My birthday’s in June,” she whispers, smirking.

Yang blinks, taken by surprise. Slowly, the corners of her mouth curl upward, and Yang tilts her head just a bit. “Well I did say you’ll prove me wrong about a lot of things.”

Humming, Blake smiles softly. “That you did,” she mumbles.

A loud alarm suddenly goes off, making Yang nearly drop her sandwich -- Blake forgot about that. Scrambling, Yang fumbles for her scroll on her body, finally grabbing it out of her front pocket on her hoodie. She silences it. “Sorry!” She calls out to everyone in the cafe, wincing. “My twenty minute break is up, I have to get back to class.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get to eat your sandwich,” Blake apologizes. Yang was only here because she needed food to help her through her ‘pinch,’ and Blake kept her from doing that.

Right on cue, “No biggie. You helped me more than this sandwich could ever do.”

“I try.”

“So.. I’m going to get going now. It was really nice to see you again, beautiful.”

Blake parts her lips, a little flutter in her chest. She can feel her cheeks warming, and they’re just getting even warmer from the gaze Yang’s giving her.

“Bye Yang, I’ll see you around.”

Yang nods and slowly spins on her heels, heading for the door. Blake’s attention goes back to the coffee because she needs a breather. Her drink’s gone room temp, but she doesn’t mind. Its only purpose now is to provide caffeine for Blake, her body’s feeling warm enough already.

Opening her law book, she’s about to start her reading of the day before she hears, “Hey Blake,” Yang softly calls out.

Blake looks away from her book, humming. She sees Yang was almost out the door, but she’s quickly walking back towards her. Blake notices Yang’s fingers tapping against her thigh, she’s biting down on her lip, and Blake anxiously waits.

“I’d really like to take you out tonight, if you’d let me. I can’t stop thinking about you, and I’d be dumb if I didn’t ask you out.” She can see a bright blush blooming on Yang’s cheeks, and Blake can feel her heartbeat quicken. 

The words were heard, she heard them in all four of her ears, but they weren’t exactly processed until a moment later.

_ Oh _ .

Okay, sure, let’s go out. On a date. A date. The two of us, out on a date. 

“Yeah, you can take me out,” Blake whispers, her face flushing.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, Yang.”

“So, -” Yang starts. Without a second to spare, Blake rips a small piece of paper from her notebook, ignoring the notes she just messed up. Jotting down her number, she slides it on the table, looking up to see a loose grin on Yang’s face. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“Why are you calling me?”

It’s very grumpy, groggy, and grievous sounding.

It was the predicted response, but Blake went for it. “Hi to you too,” Blake says dryly, looping her arm through her canvas bag. She wraps her scarf back around her neck, tucking it into her coat.

Weiss groans on the other side of the call, and Blake can hear her shuffling around, probably getting situated. “What do you want?”

“Yang asked me out,” she tries to casually say, but she can’t hide the excitement. She’s walking out of Aura’s. The wind immediately hits her, it’s definitely colder, even with the sun out. It’s about three in the afternoon, and Blake’s brain is dead from her reading.

“I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks, it really sounds like you are,” Blake says flatly.

“You just woke me up from my nap! -- ugh,  _ twenty _ minutes before my alarm goes off too.”

“Of course, I forgot that you need your beauty sleep.”

“ _ Anyways,  _ why are you calling me about Yang asking you out? Did you invite her to the party?” Weiss asks, grumbling. Wow, Blake really forgot what it was like waking Weiss up.

“Yes I did, she’s bringing a plus one -- it’s her sister. Is that okay?” Blake wasn’t exactly sure because Weiss was a bit particular about having people she’s never met in her home space.

“She’s Yang’s sister, I’m sure I’ll like her, thank you for asking. Now stop  _ avoiding  _ the damn question!”

“There’s just something about her,” Blake says, biting her lip. Something, something Yang made her feel, how she felt, what she thought,  _ everything  _ and  _ anything. _

“How specific of you. That sounds like something someone would do if you like them.”

“I feel like I’m  _ healing _ when I’m with her. Just being  _ near _ Yang, I can feel myself being torn and taken apart, but patched up together, in the way where I’m feeling almost.. me again. I’m finding myself again.”

‘ _ Wow,  _ that took a turn,’ she thought, blinking. She didn’t mean to go that far, the words just poured out of her.

Her chest felt lighter almost, her mind clearer, her smile wider.

Blake walks in silence until she’s almost off campus before Weiss whispers, “She never went anywhere -- you, you never went anywhere.”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“I knew you were an only child!”

Blake huffs out a light laugh, shaking her head. “Just because I didn’t share my potatoes with you doesn’t automatically mean I’m an only child.”

“Yes it does! If you had a sibling, you’d understand the struggle. I had to share my food with my little sister all the damn time, even when I didn’t want to! My dad forced me to share!” Yang argues, bumping her shoulder. Blake grabs onto Yang’s elbow for stability, smiling.

It’s a provocative smile, and Yang has a similar one plastered on her face.

It’s still early in the night, and they’re walking side by side down the street, laughing and teasing one another, just leaving from a place called AZ’s. Blake’s feels a little loose from two glasses of wine while Yang’s bolder from her three ales.

“I have a roommate who’s on the gymnastics team, I understand the struggle of sharing food. I have to buy double the amount of groceries sometimes.”

Yang frowns, blinking at Blake. For a second, Blake thought she did something wrong, but, “Oh boo hoo, that sounds  _ so _ bad. I grew up with a little demon for twenty two years! Still living with her.”

“That sounds like a personal problem,” Blake murmurs, coming out a tease.

“So inconsiderate, I thought you’d care about my feelings. I care about you and your feelings.” Yang says, her voice low.

Blake immediately reaches down for Yang’s hand, softly twining their fingers together. Yang’s lips part, and she smiles.

They’ve been touching all night, little bumps with their knees, fingers brushing against one another, leaning and bumping in each other’s shoulders -- but this was the first deliberate touch.

“I care about you too, Yang,” she whispers, squeezing her hand.

Yang shrugs her shoulders, obviously thinking otherwise. “I don’t believe you,” she says nonchalantly.

Gasping, Blake bumps into her shoulder, sending her stumbling down the sidewalk with Blake following -- their hands never letting go of the other. “What can I do to make you believe me then?”

“How about another date? Maybe two or three more dates, actually a lot more of them, I don’t think I could ever get tired of going out with you.”

Blake parts her lips, not sure how to respond. Yang turns her head, amused, pleased that she made her speechless. That was the  _ second _ time Yang’s pulled it off, whereas Blake has done it  _ five  _ times, but who’s keeping count? 

“A very subtle way of asking me out, I’m more into the ‘bolder’ type.”

“Blake, will you be my girlfriend?” Yang asks without missing a beat, and Blake’s mouth twitches.

There was a part of her that wanted to wait, to not rush into this, Blake didn’t want to screw it up. She wanted to take things slow, especially after the toxic relationship she was in for nearly six years.

There was no debating it, putting herself first was the main priority for Blake, no matter what. After everything that she’s gone through, Blake knew she had to take care of herself first.

But that didn’t mean saying no to being Yang’s girlfriend. It just meant taking things slow.

“Yeah,” Blake breathes, softly smiling.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she repeats, giving a reassuring bump to Yang’s shoulder. But then, Blake halts, thus making Yang halt as well. Yang eyes her carefully, but it makes Blake breathe easier when Yang’s thumb rubs against her hand. “I just want to say this first, though. I’m going through a lot right now, and I just want to take this slow, if you don’t mind. I know we’re both riding this  _ intense _ wave right now, but I don’t think I jump into this relationship head first.”

Yang’s grin is a bit wobbly when Blake looks up at her, and she thinks Yang looks even gorgeous. Blake’s pulled towards Yang’s chest, and she feels a hand resting on her waist. “ _ Sweetheart, _ I think we’re going to be in for the long haul,” she whispers, placing a gentle kiss on Blake’s forehead. The gesture is so small and simple, but it makes her heart throb with happiness. “Take your time, as much time as you need. You set the pace, and I’ll follow your lead.”

“Thank you,” Blake mumbles, leaning into Yang, tucking her head into the crook of her neck. It’s so warm, so comforting, and somehow so  _ familiar. _

A soft laugh bounces off Yang’s chest as they separate, Blake can see a light pinkness touch her cheeks. “I kinda want to show you something.”

“This isn’t where you kill me, right? Because I have a mean kick, fair warning.”

“No, we’re just heading to my apartment. Come on.”

“What? How far away is it?”

“Come on pretty lady, it’s not that far of a walk.”

“It’s  _ cold _ , and I’m not much of a fan of the cold,” Blake whines, pouting. She crosses her arms, trying to retain as much heat close to her chest as possible.

“That’s why you have me, come here. The cold doesn’t have anything on me!” Yang belts, offering an open arm.

It doesn’t even take Blake a second before she closes the space between them, wrapping her arms around Yang's chest, and Yang’s arm rests on her shoulder. The effect is immediate.

“Where do you live again?”

“On 5th and Ember Street.” Blake’s breath gets caught in her throat, but she quickly covers it with a hum. Yang didn’t notice it. “It’s not that big, but suitable for Ruby and I. I’m glad I found it though, a couple blocks away from Huntzie’s, and a bus ride away from campus.”

Blake hums again, not knowing what to say -- not knowing what to do -- what to even think. Anxiety floods her stomach, and she can feel the salmon chowder from dinner turning in her stomach.

_ Fuck _

“So it wasn’t until after I signed for the apartment that I realized it also comes with a small garage on the side of the building. So there’s something I wanna show you.” Yang says, tightening her hold around her shoulders.

“This better not be a dungeon,” Blake manages. 

A couple minutes pass by and her heartbeat is pounding in her ears, Blake swallows thickly when she sees the red brick building come into view. She nudges against Yang with her head, trying to calm her breathing.

She can do this, she can do this.

In her peripheral vision, Blake can see the alley, she can see the dumpster. The spot where she was beaten, where her ribs broke, where all of her nightmares end.

Her eyes stay glued to it until Yang tugs her into an alley half a block away. Blake has to take another breath, the cold air cutting the insides of her lungs. It’s a lit alley, but still relatively dark -- dark enough for a mug incident to happen at least.

They’ve untangled, but Yang still has a hold of her hand, and Blake tries to stay close as possible. She’s on alert, listening to everything and anything.

“Here we are!” Yang coos happily, letting go of her hand.

Blake can feel her breathing pick up, and she’s getting anxious.

She’s safe, she knows that. She’s with Yang, and she’s safe.

But Blake’s eyes are in frantic mode and her ears are flat against her head under her beanie. She’s standing close to Yang, completely terrified and paranoid, she hopes Yang just believes it’s Blake wanting her warmth.

Which she also wants, but that’s in the back of her head at the moment.

Pulling out a set of keys, Yang quickly unlocks the garage door. There’s a soft click, and she’s sliding it upward with a heavy grunt. Blake shuffles closer to Yang, peering inside. Yang doesn’t need to say anything because Blake can perfectly see what’s in the dark garage, and holds her breath.

A beautiful golden yellow painted motorcycle.

It was its own unique model, but it still was the same vehicle  _ he _ drove. Two wheels, a handlebar, the seat, the physique, everything.

It reminded Blake so much of  _ him.  _ That’s all she could see.

Turning on the light, Yang takes a step forward, leaving Blake’s grasp, a light laugh echoing in the wind. “Isn’t she a beauty? My dad bought her for me as a graduation present, and she’s been stuck with me since.”

‘ _ Slow inhales and slow exhales. _ ’

“She’s -- um -- she definitely resembles you,” Blake attempts, looking everywhere else but the bike, Yang doesn’t notice.

There’s two shelves against the back wall, stashing away a couple of large storage bins. Right beside the bike, hanging from the ceiling is a punching bag.

“Her name’s Bumblebee because her engine is just a humming little buzz, the softest sound you’ll ever hear.”

“Did you name her before or after you did the paint job?”

Yang laughs behind her as she walks over to the work bench where all of the tools are cluttered. “ _ Before _ , of course. You think I’m insane or something? Always name them the second you lay your eyes on the prize.”

_ ‘Insane _ ’

Blake has to grip the edge of the table for stability, the wind completely knocked out of her. She lets out a quiet breath, feeling a little sharp pain in her chest -- her ribs were aching.

She hears Yang shuffle through a storage bin behind her, distracted, and  _ god _ , luck was just on her side because Yang couldn’t see what was happening to Blake. She glances over her shoulder, clutching on the table still. Yang pulls out a black helmet, grinning. “This helmet is Ruby’s, but she hasn’t worn it in forever. I think you have a small enough head to wear this.”

“Giving me the black helmet whereas you have a gold helmet. How thoughtful,” Blake says dryly, trying to level out her voice.

“Right?” Yang exclaims, grinning. She’s looking at Blake with so much content that Blake can’t help but feel warm inside. “I was hoping I could take you out for a ride.”

“I don’t know Yang..” Blake murmurs, rubbing her arm. 

But she’s stubborn, Blake should’ve foreseen that. “Have you ever ridden one?”

“Well, yeah. It’s not that I’m exactly scared of riding it, it’s just --” Blake sighs, not knowing how to phrase it, not sure whether to bring up the past, not  _ ready  _ to bring the past up.

Yang immediately notices the discomfort, frowning. “We don’t have to go for a ride, I’m sorry for pushing.”

Blake shakes her head, offering a small smile. “No, no. It’s fine, really.” This was  _ Yang _ , Blake had to remind herself. “I want to,” she murmurs, but she almost doesn’t trust herself.

Yang takes a small step towards her, close enough so Blake could feel the warmth, but she was giving Blake enough space. 

It was as if the weight of the world was sitting on Blake’s chest, crushing her ribs, her lungs. But Blake held her breath, waiting, wanting.

“Do you trust me?”

There’s a voice in the back of Blake’s head that’s whispering ‘ _ be brave, you’re brave.’  _ It was almost a mixture of Weiss’ voice, her mom’s voice,  _ her voice _ . Standing with her, being with her, supporting her through everything.

“Of course I do,” she says.

“You can do this, you can ride a motorcycle. I’m not a scary driver, I promise. But if you really don’t want to, we don’t have to. Just tell me, and I’ll stop pushing.”

God, it was the most perfect thing to hear, and to even hear it from Yang, Blake wanted to say  _ fuck _ slow, she wanted to push Yang up against the wall and just let Yang take her away. Everything in her body wanted to tell Yang, ‘ _ Yes, take me. Take all of me because I’m yours. I’m yours, everything of mine is yours.’ _

But instead, Blake quickly walks over to Yang, placing her hands on her neck. She gives Yang the softest smile, in her eyes and on her lips, and slowly takes the helmet from her hands. “Let’s go on a ride, baby,” she murmurs.

And she sees Yang’s eyes dart down to her lips, back to her eyes.

Taking a step back, Blake puts the helmet over her head. She flinches because her ears aren’t used to being pressed down so hard, but she’ll manage. “I know how to drive a motorcycle, you driving or what?” Blake teases, her voice muffled.

“This is my  _ baby _ , she won’t let just anyone drive her.” Yang shoots back, throwing her helmet on. 

Walking over to the bike, she bends down to release the tire locks, quickly rolling it out of the garage. Pulling the garage door down, she locks it and turns to Blake, cracking her knuckles. She pulls the visor of her helmet down, glancing at Blake, almost giving her one last chance to back out. But it didn’t come. 

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

Yang swings her leg over the seat, stabling the bike for her. Nervously, Blake tentatively wrapped her arms around Yang’s body, linking her fingers together. But the warmth from being so close to Yang was so soothing, it made her body relax. Blake sighed, closing her eyes, leaning her head against Yang.

This was different than riding before, completely different. There wasn’t anything terrifying about sitting on the motorcycle with Yang, Blake began to find it hard to believe that there’d be anything terrifying with Yang.

Yang didn’t say anything, but Blake could feel a soft rumble in Yang’s chest -- a quiet laugh. Everything was so easy, comforting, softhearted.

The engine turned on, and she immediately felt the low vibrating hum. It did sound like a little bumblebee. Blake smiled, tightening her arms around Yang. She felt Yang’s hand rest against hers, a gentle touch for reassurance, saying ‘ _ I’ve got you, I’m not letting you go. _ ’

They slowly moved out from the alley and onto the road, the wind hitting them with full force. Blake was glad she took the helmet otherwise her ears would be freezing.

When Yang picks up the speed down the road, Blake has to close her eyes because it’s a bit overwhelming, all of the emotions and memories flooding through her.

It’s only when she hears a muffled, “I fucking love riding! I’ve missed this so much!” that she slowly opens her eyes.

Yang drove differently too, with this calm recklessness. Blake was loving it.

She watches as they sped through the city, passing cars and people, zipping through cars, and switching lanes. Yang wasn’t going that fast, but lights and sounds were buzzing past them, and Blake felt -- anxiety?

No, it was more like adrenaline and exhilaration running down Blake’s spine, and she felt it go all the way to her toes and fingertips. 

Blake almost wanted to laugh, wanted to scream into the night.

Rounding a corner, Yang revs the motorcycle down a slow street, and Blake hears the engine pop. A moment passes, and Blake doesn’t feel anything, nothing but warmth and contentment.

Yang’s hand comes back and rests against her wrist. That gives a chance for Blake to unclasp her hands, and she takes the opportunity to reach her hand up, leaning up towards the sky, smiling up to the stars.

She  _ feels _ like she’s up in the sky with the stars.

Wiggles her fingers, Blake feels the wind blow and dance through her fingertips, but she doesn’t feel the chilliness, doesn’t feel the cold. Instead, she felt a wildfire burning inside her, flames roaring throughout her body. The wind helped spread it to her fingers, to her feet, to her eyes.

But it wasn’t riding on a motorcycle that was making her feel this way, that was giving her this  _ flare _ . It was being  _ here _ with Yang, it was Yang that gave her this sense of safety and comfort. She gave Blake an unspoken promise.

This is  _ what _ she’s been missing.

This is what being  _ alive _ felt like.

This is  _ freedom,  _ this is  _ living. _

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, thing are picking up!! Thanks for reading, hope you guys are enjoying it!!
> 
> But please, someone just give my bby Blake a HUG, she just needs a world's amount of love all the time, and maybe some warm clothes. I love her so much. But she's got Yang. I know Blake isn't exactly 'truthful' with Yang, or the fact that Yang hasn't picked up moments where Blake's uncomfortable, that's okay! It's all a part of the relationship. Let me know what you guys think.
> 
> Yes, things are going to start picking up, so prepare yourselves, haha.
> 
> Next update's coming soon, probably not as quick as this one, but it's coming!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She had been holding it in all night, the words had been building on her chest, achingly sitting on her ribs. When the words slipped off her tongue, Blake felt like she was jumping off a cliff into an endless pit, waiting to be caught by Yang’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is chaotic and messy and a wild ride.

“Sun, I just got home,” Blake says dryly, throwing her coat and beanie onto the hallway bench. It’s been a long day, well, more of a long night -- work at the cafe was exhausting.

“That’s a lame excuse,” her roommate calls out from the living room. She can hear jazz music blasting from the sound system -- why, Blake has no idea.

“Come on, give me ten minutes to debrief and then we can head to the store.”

“Okay, I’m starting the timer!”

Sighing, Blake slowly kicks her boots off, the bottom of her feet aching. She sets her bag beside the door, but grabs her laptop and politics book out. Humming quietly with the jazz, she walks down the hallway, passing the kitchen, only to do a double take because their kitchen is a complete  _ mess _ .

Everything about it is absolutely horrifying, Blake almost wants to head over to Yang’s for the night.

There’s a half eaten banana on the counter, a plate of a mixture of berries, peaches, and cherries, a pan of what looks like banana bread, a dirty cutting board and knife with the discard of a pineapple, and a dirty blender.

The realization dawned on Blake’s face, recognizing this as one of Sun’s ‘moods’ that he goes through every now and then, but this -- this was the worst one yet -- it was so  _ disgusting. _

“We’re not going anywhere until you clean up your mess!” She says loudly because Blake Belladonna does not yell.

Sometimes she wished Sun lived with his boyfriend so he had to deal with this bullshit and not her. She truly does live with a teenager sometimes, and it drove her to the point where she almost wanted to actually pull his tail.

When all she hears is louder jazz music and no response from Sun, she immediately pops a raspberry in her mouth, and grabs the dirty knife and heads down the hallways, to the living room, her ears standing straight up.

She can feel her eyes constricting, threatening to wreak absolute havoc on her dumbass roommate.

Rounding the corner, the music is blasting even louder, a saxophone going off on a solo. It’s the perfect music to play when -- Blake without any hesitation swings her arm back to throw the  _ chef’s knife _ directly at Sun’s back once she sees him.

Some would probably say Blake and Sun’s relationship is a bit  _ toxic _ , but they’d both beg to differ and argue that it’s their way of loving each other. Some would say the reactions Blake has towards Sun’s actions are a bit  _ dramatic _ \-- which they were, Blake had no problem admitting that, but this was Sun she was reacting to, they couldn’t really blame her.

And Blake would never purposely harm Sun either because she knew very well she honestly couldn’t. It was, like, impossible to hurt the idiot. She couldn’t inflict damage on him, but he could definitely inflict damage on himself.

It happens all too quickly, the second the knife leaves her hand, Sun’s tail instinctively grabs the handle of the knife in mid air before it even comes close to him. His reflexes were just too good sometimes.

There, that grabbed his attention.

Scowling, Sun glares once he turns around, his mouth wide open, and a piece of banana in his mouth. He has a half of a banana left in his hand, and an apple in the other. Blake watches as his tail sets the knife on the coffee table and she responds with a small smirk, crossing her arms.

“You promised no more knives!” Sun scolds, flailing his arms.

“This time was an exception though,” Blake argues, amused, eyeing the knife. She kind of wished she brought another one.

But Sun immediately recognizes the look, and quickly takes it off the table. “No! No more knife throwing!” He says, his expression stern. He hides the knife behind his back, his tail swishing back and forth. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

“ _ Good _ because then I won’t have to deal with your mess anymore.”

His eyes furrow, confused, chewing. “What mess? I do --” His mouth drops in an o form, and his eyes dart to the side, looking away from Blake. She doesn’t say anything, but keeps her position with her arms crossed, but holds more of a firm and mild expression. Sun’s tail lowers, hugging the back of his ankles. “Fine, I’ll go clean it up.” He murmurs, quickly brushing past her shoulder and towards the kitchen.

“Ten minutes, and then we’re heading to the store.”

“More like give me five,” he calls over his shoulder.

Blake walks over to the couch to sit, grabbing a piece of pineapple to eat, setting her laptop and textbook down.

Being a gymnast and a monkey faunus, Sun was a man of food moods. He’d go through the entirety of the fridge within a span that ranged from two hours to ten hours. It’s where he went on an absolute rampage, devouring anything and everything. Blake liked to think it was because he did nearly forty-eight hours a week, the man literally pushed himself to the brink of death sometimes. It’d made sense for him to eat so much food, his body needed it. But no, it was because Sun just had this  _ weird  _ appetite.

She shoots Yang a text on her scroll, grabbing another piece of pineapple, humming to herself at the sweetness of it.

The only benefit there was from Sun’s food moods was that he went on a fruit rampage, every single time. He would cut up everything, if there wasn’t anything, he would go buy some fruit. 

A siren outside caught her attention as it started howling outside, echoing through the streets. It was louder than the yells from drunks down the street, louder than the jazz music still playing inside her apartment, louder than the car horns. There was an ambience in the sound, screaming into the night so that everyone could hear, filling the sky.

It was telling the world something.

Blake stands up to walk outside on their small apartment balcony. She’s not wearing her beanie, so her ears immediately flinch from the cold. The sound of the siren’s slowly fainting, slowly disappearing into the night. Sighing, she leans down against the railing, missing, longing. Her soul felt tired and empty, yearning, wanting.

She missed Yang.

Yang had stopped by the cafe last night after she got out of her design class, but was only able to stay for a couple of hours, and even then, Blake couldn’t talk to her much. They were able to see each other earlier this week and briefly in the mornings, but the last couple of days have been mainly texts and calls.

Tomorrow needed to come sooner.

Blake turns her scroll back on, sending her another text.

**9:29 p.m.**

**Blake - I miss you.**

The words are as simple as it is, but there’s so much meaning to it.

It’s a confession almost. It is.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“Is Sun still vegan?”

“Yeah he is, but you know he’s going to make his own food, right?” Blake says, pulling her beanie down. There’s some chatter from a group of guys in the back of the store that she can hear.

“What?” Weiss shrieks, and Blake has to hold her scroll away from her ear. Sun turns to her, grinning. Blake rolls her eyes, pushing the cart as they make their way down the coffee and tea aisle. “Well tell him he can’t! I’m doing all the cooking for the party, and I say that with pride,” she says.

Without explanation, Blake walks over to Sun, shoving her scroll into his hands. Her attention immediately goes to looking at the different types of coffee, ignoring Sun’s protests.

“Why’d you give me this? What am I supposed to say?” Sun whispers, bemused. He glances at Blake with a concerned expression, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Just talk to her,” Blake says with disinterest.

“But I don’t have anything to say to her,” he argues, Blake can feel him emphasizing with his eyes.

“ _ Sun, _ ” she stresses, grabbing a local brand of coffee beans, carefully reading the back of it.

Blake vaguely wonders if Yang would like this kind -- she’s been bribing Yang with her delicious homemade coffee to meet her in the mornings, even though Yang’s not even close to being an early bird. 

“ _ Blake. _ ”

“I’m still here!” She hears Weiss scream.

Groaning, Sun rolls his eyes, and brings the scroll up to his ear. “Hello, Weiss,” he says, sarcasticness overlaying his tone and Blake hears Weiss loudly say something. There’s a heavy sigh from Sun, “Yes I’m bringing my own food.” There’s a pause. “Because I’m vegan, and I want to bring my own food!” Blake slides to her left, now looking at another container. Rather than it being a local brand, it’s sold from a more sustainable company. “Your food is  _ very _ good, Weiss. I just -- no, I’m not saying -- Weiss.” But Blake already has three containers of coffee at home, she really shouldn’t buy another one. “ _ Weiss _ , I’m  _ sorry _ for scaring you, come on! That was a couple weeks ago, let it go already.” Humming, she grabs both of them and carelessly tosses them into the cart, it’s Sun’s turn to pay for groceries anyways. “Just let me bring my own food, dammit woman! I  _ love _ cooking just as much as you!” Pushing the cart away, she hears Sun hurriedly scuffle behind her, throwing a can of corn, a small bag of cornmeal, and flour. “Fine, I’ll email you a list of things I’ll be making.  _ Yes _ , I’ll be cooking enough. I’m a monkey faunus, Weiss, I can multitask easily, that’s so offensive. Wait, how many people are going to be there?”

“Cook for twelve people,” Blake says, following Sun when he heads for the produce section.

Sun whips his head, looking at her in shock. Twelve people wasn’t a lot, at least, Blake didn’t think so. “That’s so many! Ow! -- sorry, Weiss, okay, okay. Here, Blake,” he says. He quietly huffs as he hands the scroll back to her, dragging the cart away.

“Hey,” she says, nonchalantly, following after.

“I don’t understand how you live with the man,” Weiss begins, Blake can hear annoyance lacing her voice. “I mean, good grief, he’s so exhausting, manic, obnoxious, and callous! I can’t stand the man!”

Blake lightly laughs, eyeing Sun in the produce aisle. He’s carrying a bag of mushrooms, cauliflower, and kale in one hand, and a bag of red potatoes in the other.

“You get used to him.”

“Well, thankfully, I don’t have to.”

“ _ Weiss _ ,” Blake urges, frowning. Sun was her roommate of three years, he held some significant importance to her, and Weiss had the tendency to.. forget that sometimes.

“Okay, I apologize. He’s just -- a bit too much for me sometimes,” she mumbles quietly.

Blake knew she didn’t mean any rudeness from it, Weiss just  _ clashed _ with Sun quite often, but it was in the way of sibling clash. Weiss clashing with Ilia was a completely different story on the other hand,  _ things _ got heated between them.

“He just likes to tease people, and you make it so easy for him,” Blake states, laughing quietly. She tries to lighten the mood because she knows Weiss is just as exhausted as her, and the teasing from Sun definitely didn’t help her.

And there’s a long groan from Weiss along with a weird noise, and the corner of Blake’s mouth twitches. “Buy me a bottle of gin, would you?” She moans.

“I thought you weren’t going to drink much tomorrow.”

“I made a deal with monkey boy, he’s going to come over and we’re going to have a cooking session together,” Weiss utters quietly. She sounds so ashamed.

Blake’s lips twitch, and she lets out a soft laugh. “That sounds like the end of the world,” she says dryly.

“It’s the absolute worst!”

“I believe you.”

“Stop teasing me.”

“Weiss, you have the biggest kitchen I know. You have three ovens, two sinks, and a huge island.” She thinks of Weiss’ apartment, how even if Weiss does have a huge kitchen, it’s somehow the perfect size for someone like Weiss. 

“I’m not a fan of sharing,” Weiss states.

“You and me both.” The conversation about siblings she had with Yang crosses Blake’s mind, and she smiles to herself, her eyes bashfully looking down. “What time would you like me to come over?”

“Is it just you, or is Sun coming with you?”

“I think just me. Sun’s going to head over to Neptune’s tonight and they’ll head over together tomorrow.”

“Feel free to come whenever then. Oh, and don’t forget your laptop so I can look over your paper.”

“Can you handle all of this, you have a lot going on today.”

Weiss hums, “Can I?”

There’s a moment, “Can y --”

“Of course I can! I have a schedule, everything is planned out. A hectic day like tomorrow requires pristine accuracy and organization.”

“Ah, yes, I should’ve foreseen that you made a spreadsheet that has every hour planned out.” She shakes her head at Sun when he holds up two pineapples, grinning. But it’s no use because he just tosses them into the cart anyways.

“Excuse you, it’s actually planned out by every half hour,” Weiss corrects, playfully scoffing.

“My condolences,” Blake says flatly, grabbing two apples. They’ll be her snack for tomorrow morning.

“I’m getting off now, the two of you have completely exhausted me.”

“Just wait until tomorrow, it’s going to be even better.” 

“But at least I’ll have you,” Weiss says softly, her tone all of a sudden serious and small. 

Blake feels a small smile tug at her lips, her chest achingly comforted. “Of course, I’ll be with you all day tomorrow,” she says.

“Goodnight, I’ll see you then.”

“See you then, Weiss.”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


**3:32 p.m.**

**Yang - t minus about 5 minutes till i see you baby**

**Yang - wow the people in weiss’ neighborhood sure are rough stuff**

**Yang - what floor is she on? and what room?**

**Yang - also, I hope you’re ready for ruby, she’s really excited to meet my girlfriend :) about to be in for a surprise**

She’s sitting alone on Weiss’ sectional, with a blanket thrown over her crossed legs. Blake smiles down at her scroll, setting her glass of wine down on the coffee table in the parlor. She pops a couple of blueberries into her mouth, while humming to the tune of ‘ _ the chain.’  _ There’s soft music playing from the sound system Weiss has, Blake’s apparently on music duty.

**3:32 p.m.**

**Blake - She lives on the seventh floor.**

There’s a loud clatter, the sound of baking sheets hitting the floor, Blake’s ears flinch from the abrupt clanging.

“Sun!” Weiss screams from the kitchen. “I told you to not leave those there, you are so lucky that there was nothing on them!”

“I didn’t put those there, I’ve been standing over here where I’ve been cutting my vegetables peacefully, exactly where you told me to stay.” Sun bites back.

“ _ Neptune _ !” Weiss hisses, and Blake can hear a quiet groan.

There’s a heartful laugh from Sun, a sound Blake doesn’t hear very often actually. She can only assume the presence of Neptune makes him comfortable, even in Weiss’ home.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I was just trying to reach for something, and then you opened the oven and I got scared!” Neptune says.

Weiss lets out a heavy sigh, and the corner of Blake’s mouth twitches.

“To be fair, I did warn you that I’m a total disaster in the kitchen, Sun can even vouch for me,” Neptune argues.

“Oh for god’s sake, leave! You’re kicked out of the kitchen. Go get Blake, please.”

Blake has a smug grin on her face when Neptune walks through the doorway, frowning. “You didn’t even last thirty minutes,” she says fondly, sipping at her wine. 

Her and Sun had placed a twenty dollar bet earlier this afternoon on how long Neptune could last in the kitchen -- Blake said less than thirty minutes, Sun had too much faith in his boyfriend and said at least two hours.

“Weiss wants you in the kitchen,” he mumbles, shoulders slumped in shame. Poor boy, and Blake knew he wanted to make Sun proud too.

Without saying anything, Blake hums to the soft music and heads for the kitchen. “ _ Sun _ , you’re a  _ vegan _ . At least be a sustainable vegan, and use the damn compost bucket!” Weiss says.

There’s a low grunt, “Let me cut my potatoes in peace!”

“You’re in my kitchen!”

“Do you want mash potatoes or not?”

“I’m making scalloped potatoes, thanks for offering.”

“Well  _ that _ isn’t vegan! Who’s the sustainable one now?”

“I will literally  _ kick  _ you out of this kitchen!”

“Children, please, lower your voices,” Blake whispers, entering. She takes a sip of her wine, hoping it’d help with all the banter going on.

A wave of so many different smells hits her palette, and she’s almost overwhelmed, but in a good way of course. She could smell the bread and biscuits in the oven, the roasted vegetables, the shrimp that was sitting in an ice bath in the sink,  _ everything _ .

Weiss truly went all out.

And she had Sun to extend the field too, there was going to be so much food.

“Ah, Blake, you want to go ahead and grab the anchovy and sardines out of the fridge? I just finished up toasting the bread.” Weiss requests, visibly relaxing when she sees Blake.

She had no problem abiding by her request because Blake, of course, had a thing for anchovies. Grabbing a small bowl of marinated goodness, Blake set it on the counter beside Weiss, peeking over her shoulder at her cutting the bread. It looked delicious.

“So, was there like, a theme with tonight’s meal? Because there seems to be a  _ lot _ of seafood lying everywhere.” Sun asks, waving his hand.

“It’s about the end of November, I had to take advantage of all of the delicious seafood the markets had.”

“Disgusting..” he mumbles, tossing his cubed potatoes.

“You’re not even eating any of it, don’t shame.” Blake says dryly, sipping at her wine, she takes a glance at Weiss -- 

“Blake! There’s some people at the elevator waiting for you!” She hears Neptune call out, and immediately her cheeks feel warm.

Blake turns to look at Weiss and Sun, narrowing her eyes. “Behave,” she orders. Sun barks out a laugh, shaking his head.

“Oh dear god, she’s here.” Weiss mutters, slamming the oven door closed.

But Blake doesn’t bother to respond to it, she’s practically running through Weiss’ apartment -- more like gliding on her socks because everything’s spinning  _ just _ a bit. And now that Yang’s here, Blake feels even higher, happily high.

“Wow! This place is huge, Yang! Blake’s friend must be super  _ fancy _ , if you know what I mean.” She hears Ruby laugh out.

“Just be ready to actually meet Blake, Ruby. I think you’ll really like her,” Yang snickers, lightly laughing. There’s a warm feeling floating in Blake’s stomach, and it slowly makes it way up to her lungs and heart.

It was almost as if a flame flickered inside her chest and knocked down part of a wall of ice she had.

Fastly walking down the hallway, Blake has to restrain herself from wanting to throw herself into Yang’s arms, but if Blake had to admit, she was actually a little more excited to see Ruby’s reaction. But she does give Yang a small smile before the short dark haired girl saw her.

And right Blake was about the reaction.

Because it was a mixture of a squeal and a scream that came out of Ruby’s body the second she saw Blake. With no warning, Ruby flung herself towards Blake, -- which Blake with her esteeming cat balance, was able to catch her without the both of them stumbling. “Hello, Ruby,” she whispers. 

Blake is pleased with the reaction. 

Her and Yang have been planning this since the beginning of the week. Memories of the both of them sneaking around like teens in high school flashed in her head, and it just makes Blake’s heart flutter even more.

It was when Blake realized Ruby was Yang’s little sister when she spoke about Velvet mentoring her little sister, and Yang realized she and Ruby’s Blake were the same person when Ruby spoke about a law student who wore a beanie and black peacoat all the time.

“You didn’t tell me that Blake is  _ Blake _ ! Holy shit!” Ruby exclaims, waving her arms, completely ecstatic. Ruby looks at Yang, “It’s Blake!” Jumping, she turns to Blake, “You’re Blake! Oh my god, you’re Yang’s  _ girlfriend! _ Oh my god!”

Yeah, this was a good reaction.

It takes a moment for things to settle down, but Yang walks to stand beside Blake, softly nudging at her shoulder. “Ruby, I’d like you to meet Blake Belladonna, my girlfriend,” she says, grinning silly. 

“Shut up! I can’t get over this shit, I can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me! Yang!!” Ruby excitedly says, jumping up and down.

Blake instinctively leans her head when Yang turns to her, softly kissing her cheek. “Hi beautiful,” she murmurs against her skin. Blake flushes, her eyes glistening. “I brought the goodies!” She looks down to see a case of alcoholic cider in her hand, and Yang proudly grins.

“I brought cookies!!”

Blake laughs, shaking her head. “Come on, I’d like you to meet my friends,” she gestures, taking a hold of Yang’s hand. She tells them to drop their shoes and coats off in the closet beside the goyer table, and guides them towards the kitchen.

“Weiss sure has a huge apartment,” Yang observers, letting out a long whistle.

They walk down the hallway, passing the parlor and living room. “She does, the entire floor is actually her apartment,” Blake says.

At the same time as Ruby says a drawn out, “Whaaatt!” Yang says an abrupt, “What the hell!”

Ruby pokes her head into every room they pass, letting out small squeals. “Yang this is so cool!! Could you imagine if we lived in this size of an apartment?”

“And she lives here by herself? It’s just so big, I’d imagine she’s lonely,” Yang murmurs. Ruby doesn’t hear it but Blake hears it perfectly.

But she doesn’t say anything, only agreeing with her girlfriend.

They pause when Yang notices a photo on the wall, it’s one of the very few photos of her and Weiss -- Blake has the exact picture on her dresser at her own apartment -- it’s of them posing, mid laugh, in front of the grand fountain at the Atlasian Art Museum during their spring break trip junior year.

It’s both Blake and Weiss’ favorite memory of their friendship so far.

“Dude! You gotta stop poking at the roasted veg, there are appetizers for a reason,” Sun belts out from the kitchen. “You know that’s one of my pet peeves!”

Blake hears Weiss groan and then, some  _ very _ intense banging all of a sudden.

“ _ Hell _ yes, I’m starving. What all is there to eat?” Yang says, casually throwing her arm over Blake’s shoulder. Blake’s cheeks warm at the touch, and she easily leans against Yang, finding immediate comfort.

“Quite a bit, honestly, and this isn’t even Weiss going all out either,” Blake replies, rounding the corner to the kitchen. Blake had to blink, slow to take in the sight before her. Maybe she had to take it easy on the wine, the evening was just starting.

Sun was standing at the counter beside the stove, rapidly mixing something while his tail held a spoon over a pot on the stove. Weiss was furiously slamming her rolling pin against what looked like a bag of walnuts. They were both speaking all too quickly to each other, something about ‘there’s no room in the oven.’ There were two pans of bread rolls out cooling on a rack, and there were several baking sheets worth of vegetables on the counter. And a timer just went off.

It was even more chaotic than when Blake left.

Neptune was sitting at the island, dangling his legs, obviously moping as he stuffed his face with grapes from a fruit platter. Beside it was a tray full of jumbo shrimp with a cocktail sauce served beside it, Blake had to restrain herself from doing a beeline right for it. 

“Whoa, this kitchen is on a different level,” Yang says in shock, her mouth open. Her arm falls off Blake’s shoulder. Ruby lets out a small squeal, setting her dessert on the counter.

“There’s mortadella bites on focaccia, anchovy and sardine toast bites, honey glazed meatballs, and shrimp. Take your pick,” Blake says, her hand gesturing at the display.

“That’s kinda.. some intense appetizers.”

“And some fruit,” Neptune offers, catching a grape in his mouth he had just tossed, grinning.

Blake’s lip twitches when Yang casually strokes her tongue over her bottom lip. Forcing her gaze away, she walks over to Neptune, dragging her girlfriend and Ruby to him. “Neptune, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Yang and Ruby, Yang’s little sister. This is Neptune, he’s my roommate’s boyfriend.”

“That roommate’s name is Sun, pleasure to meet you guys; Yang, Ruby. It’s nice to meet a friend of Blake’s that isn’t so --” His eyes dart to Weiss, but he jokes it off with a dashing smile.

They glance over at Weiss who waves her hand nonchalantly in the air without looking at them.

“Careful now, she’s feeding you, babe,” Sun interjects, walking into the conversation. He leans against the counter, popping a grape into his mouth. Winking, he looks at Yang and Ruby, chewing. “Nice to finally you, Yang. Blake’s been going on nonstop about you, completely -”

Blake’s shoves a handful of grapes into his mouth, amused. “That’s enough, she doesn’t need to hear about that.”

“No I do, please, Sun, please continue.” Yang pushes, grinning. She steps in front of Blake, “I knew she was obsessed with me, I just don’t know  _ how _ obsessed.”

“ _ Please,  _ you have no room to speak, Yang. Are you forgetting about all the times you came into BB’s this week whenever Blake was working?” Weiss says flatly, pointing at Yang with a pair of tongs.

Brows furrowed, Yang opens her mouth to say something back, but Blake cuts her off. “Ruby, this is my best friend, Weiss. Weiss, this is Ruby, Yang’s little sister.”

“Hello, Ruby,” Weiss says.

Ruby gives a small wave, smiling. “Hi, it’s really nice to meet you, Weiss. It smells really good in here! Oh! I brought cookies!!”

Weiss offers a small smile, her eyes darting down to the container of cookies. “Thank you, Ruby.” Her eyes linger a little longer on Ruby, as if trying to read her, but after a moment, Weiss turns back to her red snapper in the skillet.

That was one of the rules Blake and Weiss came up with. The guests had to bring a dessert of their own to the party since Weiss was cooking for twelve -- Sun didn’t have to bring anything since he was cooking as well. Another rule was to stay in the parlor, dining area, or the kitchen if they were going to enjoy the appetizers since  _ finger food _ was selected.

It was truly a heartbreaking decision for Weiss, but with dedication from Blake, it happened.

And the last rule was to have fun. The majority of people attending all knew each other very well, there were only a couple of connections that weren’t as close. 

But now that introductions have finished, Blake pushes past Sun and goes straight for the shrimp. She had no shame in the foods she loved because she  _ loved _ any sort of seafood. There was a laugh from Yang somewhere behind her, and a scoff from Weiss.

“That shrimp will be gone within an hour,” Sun says, his mouth full of blueberries. Blake gives him a stern look, silently chewing on a piece of shrimp. 

“It’s the best quality of shrimp in Beacon!” Weiss calls over her shoulder.

It truly was.

Sun holds up his tail, disagreeing. “That’s not what I’m referring to, all I’m saying is, Blake’s a cat -”

Automatically, Blake shoves a couple pieces of sliced peaches into his mouth, which Sun reacts dramatically to. It was both nauseating and amusing to watch him glare in confusion and spit them out all over the floor.

This is why one of the rules was to stay in the kitchen.

“Oh my god, I cannot! believe! you! just! did that!!” Sun yells, wiping his tongue on the back of his hand, wrists, arms, anything really. “You know I hate peaches!”

“You know how I hate your cat jokes,” Blake replies dryly, smirking. Sun smacks her on the cheek lightly with his tail, which she brushes away.

“Please clean up that mess,” Weiss calls over from the stove.

Sun eyes Blake, and she just shrugs, wiping her mouth. It came out of  _ his  _ mouth anyways, and he’s the one who spit it out.

Neptune is snickering, rubbing his boyfriend’s back, “You were asking for it, babe.” 

Blake makes her way over to the counter to sit on Yang’s lap. Yang hums, gently wrapping her arms around Blake’s waist.

“You okay?” Blake whispers, skimming her fingers up and down Yang’s arm. She stares up at Blake with those  _ magnetic  _ eyes, her eyes glossy almost.

“Just missed you, is all,” Yang mumbles.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“What’s this??” Nora curiously asks, and Blake can see the exact moment where Weiss nearly has a heart attack because Nora’s finger is  _ very _ close to touching the dressing.

“Don’t you dare!” Weiss hisses, her voice low, which surprisingly, doesn't faze Nora one bit.

“But what is it??” She asks again, deviously smiling at it.

“It’s my simple dressing! Now get your measly little greasy finger away from it!”

“I want to try it though,” Nora presses, frowning.

Weiss raises her spatula, threatening. “No, it’s for dinner!”

But it doesn’t look threatening at all, it just adds height to Weiss’ small figure, honestly.

“ _ Nora, _ ” Ren cautions, slapping her shoulder.

There’s a devilish snicker from Nora as she grabs a mortadella cracker bite right beside it. Throwing it into her mouth, she plops herself on her boyfriend’s lap. “Ren, you should try the oysters! They’re all slimy and so salty.”

Ren eyes the oysters, disinterested. “I’ll pass,” he says.

“I agree, me no like either,” Sun mumbles, poking at a vegan meatball on his plate. He’s leaning against one of the stoves, his tail mindlessly stirring his small pot of vegan gravy.

“They’re actually really good, I never knew I liked oysters.” Neptune comments, and Blake had to agree. Weiss had to travel to the other side of Beacon and buy them from an expensive seafood restaurant. Even though Weiss lost most of her ‘power’ as a  _ Schnee _ , she still knew her connections.

“What about you?” Yang hums. “Have you tried them?” Blake quietly asks, slowly snaking her arm around Yang’s neck, drawing her closer, drawing them closer.

Yang takes a swig of her cider, shrugging. “Mhmm, I’m not much of a fan.”

“That’s a deal breaker,” Blake says, pouting. Yang laughs, wrapping her arm around Blake’s waist, nuzzling her head into Blake’s chest.

“Sorry, but you promised me more dates. There’s no take backs.” Yang says, her voice sending vibrations into Blake’s chest. It’s an innocent act, but Blake can feel herself flush at the warmth of Yang’s breath. There’s a rush of butterflies in her stomach.

It was as if Blake’s body was screaming,  _ ‘I’m yours, I’m entirely yours _ .’

And Blake had no problem saying those words aloud, but sitting on Yang’s lap in the middle of Weiss’ holiday party probably wasn’t the right time.

“You’re right, I can’t go back on my word now. Plus, I’m not entirely keen on letting you go,” Blake whispers against Yang’s ear.

Pyrrha comes waltzing back into the kitchen after using the bathroom, with Jaune right behind her, a smug look on his face. The corner of Blake’s mouth twitches, but she doesn’t say anything.

“I smell and heard oysters?” Pyrrha perks, taking a sip of her untouched glass of wine.

“You like oysters?” Jaune asks, surprised.

Pyrrha shrugs, making her way over to the island, “They’re delicious,” she says, easily slurping two of them. 

Sun makes a gagging sound, and Jaune mumbles ‘disgusting.’

“Don’t hate on them until you’ve given it a try,” Pyrrha says, patting Jaune’s cheek, smiling.

“Nope, I’m perfectly fine. Thank you. I’ll just wait until dinner’s ready.” Jaune says, shaking his head.

“Speaking of, how much longer?” Yang asks, throwing her cider can into the recycling bin they have set up for the night.

“Yeah, I’m starving,” Neptune adds, frowning.

“I’m just about done with everything on my end,” Sun says, tossing a towel over his shoulder. He puts his gravy pot beside his vegan cornbread on the dining table.

Casually seated around the table was Jaune, Blake and Yang -- while Ruby, Ren and Nora were sitting at the island -- and Neptune and Pyrrha were standing beside the island -- Weiss and Sun were walking around in the kitchen.

“All that’s left is finishing up my toasted rye bits for the salad, and we should be about ready to plate up.” Weiss says, plating small piles of butter lettuce.

On the dining table, laid an assortment of foods.

There were the sides: a variety of roasted vegetables, from sweet potatoes, brussel sprouts, potatoes, and squash -- seared asparagus and baby bella mushrooms tossed in oil and garlic -- vegan mashed potatoes -- scalloped potatoes.

Two salad options: Weiss was finishing up the butter lettuce with roasted carrots and toasted rye and a kale and roasted cauliflower salad.

For the bread options: vegan cornbread, garlic and parmesan rolls, and flaky buttermilk biscuits.

Then, Weiss had pan fried two whole red snappers in a caper sauce and made a simple dressing to go long with it.

It was a  _ lot _ of food.

And they didn’t even dent the appetizers either.

On the kitchen counter were the desserts everyone brought, cookies from Ruby, macarons from Nora, and cupcakes from Pyrrha.

There was a lot of food, and a lot of work that went into it.

Over the last half hour to an hour, it’s been an absolute madhouse and chaotic in this kitchen. From a bowl of melted butter falling on the floor because Sun slipped on a shrimp tail that  _ someone _ \-- Neptune -- dropped on the floor. Then Weiss forgot about her stale bread toasting in the oven for the simple dressing, and she had to remake the batch again. Neptune nearly dropped two baking sheets worth of roasted vegetables. Pyrrha had to take three shots of vodka because she couldn’t fit as many grapes into her mouth as Jaune. Also Yang and Nora shotgunned two ciders -- Nora did three. And the rest of the party wasn’t even here yet.

But that’s what they've been filling themselves up on actually. Drinking.

Yang’s just finished her fifth cider, she’s getting real handsy right now, and Blake is on her third glass of wine.

Blake’s ears immediately twitch at a faint sound, one she’s  _ very _ familiar with. “Yang,” she begins, biting her lip. Yang hums, sliding her hand up Blake’s leg, dangerously close to her inner thigh. “Did you tell Velvet to bring her  _ dog _ ?” She feels Yang freeze right under her, and she’s gotten her answer. “You did!” Blake whispers, staring at her sternly.

Yang defensively holds her hands up. “I wanted to meet Miso,” she argues, frowning.

Right on cue, Blake hears the barking in the apartment, it’s even louder. Blake can feel all of the hairs on her body stand up, and her ears perking straight up.

“Why is there a dog in my apartment?” Weiss asks, confused.

“We’re here!!” She hears Coco yell from the elevator.

Ruby’s face lightens up, and Blake watches her nearly fall off her seat when she runs to them. “Coco!! Velvet!!”

“You got Velvet to come??” Sun asks, shocked. “And Coco?? With their dog??”

Groaning, Blake brings her glass of wine to her mouth and takes the entire half glass all in one gulp. “Fill me another glass, please?” She says, shoving it into Yang’s hand. Miso’s getting closer, Blake can hear the nails hitting the wood. Without further ado, Blake stands and walks over to the island, preparing herself. 

She can’t escape meeting the menace. Dogs always come for her, no matter where she or if she’s hiding,  _ they _ find her.

“ _ Yang _ , you told Velvet to bring her dog. You’re lucky you’re dating Blake otherwise you’d be obliterated.” Sun says, giving her a pointed look. Yang shrugs her shoulders, shaking her head.

Rounding the corner comes Ruby, on right on her heels is a little black and white border collie, happily wagging her tail. Miso looks directly at Blake, and suddenly Blake feels very small compared to the even smaller being who’s slowly waddling towards her. Her tongue is out, it’s so slimy and wet looking. 

Nope.

Blake thought she could, she couldn’t.

She has to take a step back, quickly hiding behind Weiss who’s giving Coco a hug.

“It’s so good to see you, queenie!” Coco says, smiling.

“Miso,” Velvet lightly says, tugging on her harness. The little collie perks her ears up, glancing at her owners then back at Blake, before licking its nose and mouth, plopping down. Blake grimaces.

“If I’d known that you guys were bringing a puppy, I would’ve made something special for the little girl,” Weiss coos, scratching Miso behind the ears.

“She is a cute little pupper! Imagine if we had Zwei up here living with us, Rubes?” Yang says, sitting down beside the puppy. 

Blake frowns. Yang had a dog. And she wanted to bring the dog to Beacon.

A small bark comes from Miso, and Blake nearly jumps, her ears flattening.

“Aw, she just wants to give Blake a kiss,” Sun laughs.

She shoots him a look, eyes like daggers. “Absolutely not,” she says flatly.

“She’s so adorable!! Come here Miso, oh my goodness you’re so cute!!” Ruby squeals, frantically petting her. Blake disagrees.

“More like a little pain in the ass!” Coco says, scratching Miso’s chin. “She destroyed my favorite pair of shoes! Little demon.”

“Good job, Miso. Now destroy her jacket.” Yang mutters, grinning. The puppy rolls onto her back, reveling in the attention, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. There’s slobber falling onto the floor.

Coco shoots a pointed look at Yang, narrowing her eyes. “Watch it Xia Long, I know where I can get a key to your design studio.”

There’s another bark from Miso.

“Miso,” Velvet says again, laughing.

“Hey, so not to be a downer and take the attention away from the little puppy, but can we eat? I’m a little starving.” Neptune says, gesturing at all of the food on the dining table.

“I’ll grab the plates,” Blake quickly says, desperately wanting to put space between her and Miso.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Blake’s sitting on the arm of an armchair, right beside Yang. Yang has her arm resting on the side, her fingers thrumming up and down Blake’s back. It was honestly, obscure, Blake thought. That her and Yang had  _ this  _ many mutual friends, yet they had now just met. But it doesn’t feel as if they’ve just met, and she knows the feeling is mutual.

They’re both carelessly watching Pyrrha, Coco, and Ren play spoons, it’s the last round before it’s the finalists. Miso is sitting near Velvet who’s sitting on the other side of the room, very far from Blake. Sun and Neptune have left already, Neptune fell into an immediate food coma after having two plates worth of food and three of Pyrrha’s cupcakes. Ruby is in the kitchen with Weiss cleaning things up, doing dishes was Ruby’s favorite chore apparently. And Jaune is hanging out on the sectional, sulking in his drink after losing from Pyrrha because she distracted him with a kiss.

“Nora, come over and give Ren a kiss to distract him,” Coco jokes, chugging her drink.

Velvet gently slaps her girlfriend on the arm, shaking her head. “Don’t be a cheater.”

“I’m playing against a cheater! I have to level the playing field, sweetheart.” Coco says, shooting Pyrrha a look.

Pyrrha shrugs her shoulders, continuing to shuffle the cards. “You have to be prepared for everything.”

Yang laughs, and there’s a grin on her face that makes Blake’s heartbeat a little faster, makes her cheeks flush with redness. It’s probably because she’s on her fourth glass of wine, but Blake liked to think it was because of Yang.

“How are you doing?” Blake murmurs, leaning her head down against Yang’s.

She hums, slowly shutting her eyes closed. “You want the honest answer? Or a normal answer?” Yang asks, another light laugh rumbling off her chest.

Blake kisses the top of her head, smiling. “I’d hope they’d have the same answer.”

“I’m horny,” Yang breathes out, throwing her head back, her grin widening. The response sends a shiver down Blake’s spine, and she had to straighten up for a moment. “I’m on my like, eighth or tenth drink of the night, and everything’s just, I’m feeling everything now.” Laughing, Blake slowly rakes her fingers against Yang’s head. She gets a low hum from Yang as she relaxes against her hand. “That’s not helping.”

“I know,” Blake murmurs.

There’s yelling from Coco and Pyrrha, and loud obnoxious laughing from Nora. Miso has jolted awake, barking from the excitement in the room.

“Ohhh,” Jaune draws out, laughing. “I bet you two didn’t see that coming!”

Blake looks over to see Coco and Pyrrha laying on the floor, laughing with tears in their eyes. Nora’s hugging Ren from behind who has a smug grin on his face, the winner of spoons. Yang groans underneath her, and Blake gives her a small kiss on the head. 

“What in the world is happening?” Weiss asks, walking into the room.

“My boyfriend is superior!! You guys all suck ass!!” Nora screams.

“I demand a rematch!” Coco manages, heavily breathing. Miso’s sitting in her lap, being given enormous amounts of pets.

Ruby rushes to join the circle, a cookie in her hand. “I want in! I bet I can win this match,” she says, mischievously grinning.

That gets Yang’s attention real quick because she’s up on her feet within seconds. “Count me in, I’m going to put my little sister in her place!”

“You’re on!”

“Jaune, are you playing?” Pyrrha asks, sipping at her wine.

He groans from the couch. “Yeah, I’m coming. Let me just chug my sorrows away first.”

“Weiss, can you go get us more spoons please?” Coco asks. Without saying anything, she turns and heads for the kitchen.

“Babe, you wanna play too?” Yang calls over to her, loosely grinning. Nodding, Blake makes her way over to her, it just wasn’t possible to say no to her.

“Do we even have enough cards?” Velvet asks, laughing.

Nora dramatically throws two packs of cards onto the ground. “We do now!”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“Hey you,” Blake whispers.

Yang looks over her shoulder, sparing a sip from her cider. “Hi you.”

She steps out to join Yang in the small open space Weiss has, dragging a blanket with her. Yang’s sitting on a small bench, looking out at the city. Blake walks up behind her, gently wrapping her arms around Yang. “What’re you doing out here? It’s so cold,” she sighs against Yang’s hair.

“Thinking about you,” Yang says, she sounds so small to Blake. She tightens her hold.

It’s quiet, for a Saturday night. But then again, Weiss did live in a prestigious and rich neighborhood that was well away from the life of the city. There was only the rush of the wind that howled throughout the sky.

She hums against Yang’s back, slowly inching her fingers under Yang’s shirt. “What about me?”

Yang completely relaxes against her chest, lolling her head on Blake’s shoulder. Blake can feel the rise and fall of her breaths, how they sync with her breaths. She brushes their cheeks together, and just the simple contact between them sends butterflies flying in Blake’s stomach, in her chest, and in her heart.

“Just everything about you,” she breathes out. “How you’re so attentive to the smallest things, and you’re witty. How alive you make me feel with your laughs, your smile, and the way you look at me.”

Blake looks at her with the softest eyes, her lips parted in awe, completely heartstruck.

Yang doesn’t look at her, only to keep her eyes on the building across. “There’s just something about you, about being with you. Like you’re  _ it _ for me, the  _ it _ I’ve been searching for and waiting my entire life for.” Yang says, and Blake can feel her cheeks widen, grinning.

“You’re something else, Blake Belladonna.”

It’s not the cold wind that takes Blake’s breath away, nor is it the words Yang just said that touched her heart.

No, it was when she leaned in just a little to ghost her lips over Yang’s, and slowly, pressing their lips together, melting their lips together. The touch between them was immediate, Blake felt her entire body sigh against Yang.

It was as if it answered all of the questions the universe had.

It was as if the universe had created the two of them to be together.

One to be with the other.

She couldn’t get enough for Yang’s lips. They’re  _ soft _ ,  _ oh so soft _ , and she could feel Yang’s lips open against hers.

More, she wanted  _ more _ . 

Blake lightly scrapes her nails against Yang’s stomach, igniting an  _ ungodly _ groan out of her. Yang takes that as a sign to deepen the kiss, reaching to the back of Blake’s neck, delicately pulling them closer. She pulls on Yang’s bottom lip before brushing her tongue over it. Somewhere in the back of her head registers the blanket falling off her shoulders to the floor, but Blake doesn’t feel the cold. Not when she’s pressed against Yang, kissing her like a wildfire’s taken over Blake’s body, blazing and burning, absorbing everything in its path.

There was so much  _ intensity _ . 

Yang is the first to pull away, but Blake’s the first to open her eyes. And then Yang.

Blake, already out of breath, feels the air escape from her lungs when Yang looks at her. She could literally see the entire universe was inside Yang’s eyes. Constellations, planets, stars,  _ everything. _

She looks so beautiful, Blake thought.

“Blake,” she whispers, her voice rough through her pants. They’re both panting. Yang’s looking into her eyes, staring, and she glances down at her lips. Blake feels her heart speed up even more, ready to explode out of her chest almost.

“I’m yours, Yang. I’m all yours,” Blake says, leaning her forehead against Yang’s.

She had been holding it in all night, the words had been building on her chest, achingly sitting on her ribs. When the words slipped off her tongue, Blake felt like she was jumping off a cliff into an endless pit, waiting to be caught by Yang’s arms.

It’s only been a week since they’ve been together, but everything just made  _ sense _ . Everything they did with one another, it’s almost done out of  _ familiarity _ , like they’ve been doing this for years, for their entire life.

“I’m yours,” Blake repeats.

Yang grins, and Blake almost wants to pull her in for another kiss. Reading her mind as if, Yang leans in to place the softest lingering kiss on her lips before pulling away, but staying close to her only inches away. It takes so much effort for Blake to not pull her back in.

“And I’m all yours.”

And with that, Blake pulls her forward, their lips meeting again.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Weiss sets another plate of cookies on the coffee table, the third round of dessert of the evening. Sitting at the end of her sectional, she takes a small sip of her wine, crossing her legs. Weiss fully savors the drink, it’s only her second glass of the night. 

She carefully watches Ruby in the corner of her eye as she happily takes two of her own chocolate chip cookies she brought over. Noticing Weiss’ gaze, Ruby turns and offers one of her cookies. “They’re super good! Want one?”

“I’m not really one for sweets, thank you though,” Weiss replies, shaking her head. She grew up without sweets, so when the chance was given, rather than do the obvious and devour until she was satisfied, Weiss realized they were just too sweet and rich for her.

Well, except ice cream of course. And  _ only  _ ice cream.

“You’re missing out!”

And somehow, Weiss believes her. 

She watches Ruby devour the first cookie with three bites, happily chewing away. She fondly thinks about if Ruby’s been to the dentist a bit too many due to her sweet tooth -- she does have a beautiful smile after all.

“Is chocolate chip your favorite type of cookie?” Weiss ponders. The question just rolled off her tongue, she’s even surprised at herself for asking.

Ruby pauses mid bite on her second cookie, and chews the remainder in her mouth before replying. “Yep!” There’s a pop to the answer, and Weiss’ lip twitches. “And I made them myself, so that makes them taste even better! But there’s just something about chocolate chip cookies, you know? Sometimes, simple is best.”

Weiss digs her nails into her hand to keep her lips from parting. She bites down on her tongue, a little too hard, from gasping.

She’s surprised by the words, she’s surprised at herself.

It surprises her that that was her reaction.

The words reiterate inside her head, ‘ _ simple is best _ ,’ -- because that’s something Weiss lives by in the kitchen. It’s one of her rules in life actually, especially after her father kicked her out. It came to the light tonight too, with the dressing she made for dinner, she made it in the simplest way possible rather than go all out with it.

Simplicity is how Weiss preferred to live. She only owned the necessities, especially when it came to clothes, shoes, furniture, decorations, plants, all sorts. Well, except when it came to the kitchen of course, simplicity only came in her recipes.

She gives Ruby a small smile when Ruby hums in cookie contentment.

Once finishing, Ruby eyes the cookie platter once, twice, before looking away. “Did you have a good time tonight? I know you were in the kitchen most of the night,” she says, licking her fingers.

Weiss darts her eyes around the room, mindlessly looking at her hanging plants, careful to not look at Ruby. “I did,” she starts, her voice quiet. She’s thinking about being in the kitchen with Sun. The scrambling around, the struggle of timing everything so it was fresh to serve,  _ everything _ .

But, when other guests started to arrive, it made things go by quicker, and it was starting to make the apartment livelier.

Ruby definitely brought a different dynamic that Weiss wasn’t used to. She.. enjoyed it, even if she did watch from afar.

“I was the hostess, so of course I had to be in the kitchen. To make sure everything was going smoothly,” Weiss says, offering a small shrug. It’s a practiced and such an automated response, one Weiss is very accustomed to after so many years.

“But still, you can still have a good time while doing so,” 

“Didn’t I just say I had a good time?” Weiss asks, it comes off snappier than she meant. She can feel her heart anxiously skip a few beats, she didn’t mean to be rude.

But rather than react with hurt, Ruby responds with a smile, such a genuine and chaste smile. “Did you really, though?” She asks, and Weiss doesn’t know how to respond. “I mean, there were some moments that were pretty  _ stressful  _ tonight, and sometimes, I know those moments just stick with you for the rest of the night.”

Weiss opens her mouth, then closes her mouth, unsure. She’s so caught off guard, her brain doesn’t know what to even think.

“It’s okay, it can be our little secret. Yang’s kept it a secret that she’s dating Blake from me.”

_ Our  _

The lightest laugh escapes from Weiss’ chest, it feels warm and soft. “How’d she manage that?” Weiss asks, her mouth curling.

Ruby is beaming, Weiss can see just how beautifully bright her silver eyes are, they’re so elegant looking. “Well, Yang came home one night and told me that she got a girlfriend and her name’s Blake, but she just told me about how Blake’s a senior, she’s really cute, uh -- she works at BB’s, she’s twenty two. Oh! -- and I actually met Blake a couple weeks ago when she was talking to Velvet who is my mentor this semester. But that was before her and Yang started dating, but anyways, Yang didn’t tell me that the Blake I met was the Blake she was dating, so when I met Blake earlier today, I was so surprised!!”

She’s so animated, Weiss thought, amused.

If Weiss was being completely honest, she actually already knew the story -- Blake had shared the information with her earlier this week during a slow night at work. But she wanted to listen to Ruby, it was comforting to hear how she spoke about people and her excitement towards them.

It was as if, listening to Ruby and her excitement filled the lack of excitement in Weiss’ own life in a way.

Coming to a decision, she places her wine glass on the side table, straightening up. “Actually, I’ve changed my mind. May I please have a cookie?” Weiss requests, offering an open hand.

Maybe these cookies would taste different, they were made by Ruby. Maybe they’d be delicious or maybe they’d be unpleasant, but Weiss was willing to take a chance. Ruby enjoyed them, that was enough for Weiss honestly.

She watches Ruby eagerly lean forward, carefully inspecting the plate before grabbing two cookies. “One for you, and one for me. Cheers?” Ruby hands her the larger of the two, loosely grinning.

Weiss can’t help but smile, and clinks their cookies together with the softest touch. “Cheers,” she murmurs.

They both take a bite at the same time, and the first thing that Weiss notices is the bitterness but yet richness from the chocolate. It’s what she always notices, but it quickly goes away when there’s a softness to it. Weiss assumes that these were made earlier today, and they’ve been sitting out all afternoon, yet the cookies still have the softest and buttery bite to them.

There’s a perfect balance, simple as that.

As someone who isn't a fan of sweets and bitter things, Ruby’s cookies found a perfect balance between the two, or maybe it was something else. Weiss couldn’t quite place it, but dammit, she was going to figure it out soon.

“Sooo,” Ruby draws out, chewing. “What do ya think?”

“They’re flawless,” Weiss whispers without hesitation, still chewing. It was the truth, and Weiss wasn’t one to lie, especially when it came to food. And she doesn’t think she could even lie to Ruby either.

There it was again, that  _ something _ .

Ruby softly giggles, a light pink quick to touch her cheeks, Weiss thinks she looks adorable. “Thanks, Weiss,” she murmurs, and Weiss can immediately feel a warmth touch her own cheeks.

It’s probably just the wine, Weiss thinks. But she hasn’t even had two glasses tonight.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Yang and Ruby stayed only for a couple of hours after everyone else left. Ruby took the rest of the desserts home with her, there were only a couple macarons that Nora and Ren bought, and the rest of her own cookies. Pyrrha’s red velvet cupcakes were the favorites, they’d been eaten within an hour, and Coco took the rest of their white chocolate peppermint bark home.

Weiss had packed the rest of the roasted vegetables, dressing, and some bread rolls for Yang and Ruby to take home as well. She actually gave everyone leftovers, it wasn’t up for debate, even if they didn’t like leftovers -- Nora and Ren -- everyone took food home.

It was nearly one in the morning when everyone left, and two in the morning when Blake and Weiss were able to clean the kitchen up. 

“Did you have a good time tonight?” Blake asks. They’re both in the living room, Blake’s folding the last blanket while Weiss is moving her furniture pieces back.

She sees Weiss pause for a second before replying. “I did, I had a wonderful time.” Glancing over at her, Blake can see a pinkness hinting at Weiss’ cheeks, but Blake doesn’t say anything.

Only thinking about how she spent an abundant amount of time with Ruby tonight.

“I’m happy for you,” Blake murmurs, knowing she didn’t hear her.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Blake has only stayed the night at Weiss’ a total of eleven times in their three year friendship so far. So when Weiss asked her if she wanted to stay over, Blake had quickly said yes without a thought. And they’re the best of friends, it was comfortable for the both of them to sleep in the same bed. At first, it was strange to Weiss, but it never bothered her.

Blake and Weiss were best friends, that’s all to it.

They were both brushing their teeth before bed, Weiss had to nearly pull her off the bed because ‘taking care of your teeth is a responsibility,’ and plus, Blake did have several glasses of wine tonight.

Weiss finishes brushing first, and gives her the space of the sink. Blake’s eyes are closed while her toothbrush is in her mouth, and she’s leaning against the wall, exhausted. As much as she enjoyed today, the last couple days have just put her to the beat. Thankfully, she has a day off tomorrow, sleeping in might be an option.

Opening her eyes, she sees Weiss going through her facial night routine, applying, rinsing, and wiping, the whole process. ‘Have to keep the skin perfect and smooth,’ is what Weiss says.

Spitting and rinsing her mouth out, Blake quickly wipes with a towel before literally jumping onto the bed -- she was exhausted, and plus, Weiss had the comfiest and softest mattress. Weiss got the left side of the bed because she slept on her right side, and Blake on the other because it was closer to the window. 

Weiss takes a couple more minutes before she flicks the bathroom light off, and walks over to her side of the bed. Blake takes that as a cue to climb into bed, making herself comfortable underneath the many layers of blankets and comforter because Weiss preferred to turn the heat off at night. Blake’s eyes are already closed when Weiss switches off the lamp beside the bed and tucks herself in.

She can hear the staggered breaths from Weiss, and she’s about to ask what’s wrong before --

“Blake?” Weiss whispers. Blake hums softly, keeping her eyes closed. She feels Weiss shift behind her. “How.. how did you know you were.. gay? Or that you liked girls?” It’s barely a whisper, and if Blake didn’t have her cat ears, she didn’t think she’d hear it at all.

She doesn’t respond immediately, there’s no wild reaction from Blake, no crazy outburst or anything. Honestly, she’s caught by surprise by the question, unsure of how to respond. It takes a couple of minutes before Blake can formulate a proper sentence in her head even.

All they can hear are the car horns from the street below, it’s a quiet night.

Blake turns around to lay on her left side, only to see Weiss’ blue eyes staring straight at her. Her lips pursed tightly, and she’s clutching onto the collar of her shirt, so terrified.

“It wasn’t an exact moment for me,” Blake starts, finding the hem of her shirt. “It started out as small things to me. When I’d make eye contact with a girl, I’d feel the small rush through my body, like I’m nervous, but I don’t know what about. Or when there’d be some sort of a brief contact, when I’d hand a customer their drink, and she’d smile at me. It’d make me -- almost giddy inside, which is -- I know -- hard to believe. But it actually happened.”

Weiss doesn’t say anything, only to bite her bottom lip. Blake can see franticness in her eyes, and without saying anything, Blake reaches and grabs Weiss’ hands. “Then, I’d start thinking about them, not anyone in particular, but just women in general. I started going out of my way and purchasing books and articles written by women who identified LGBTQ, or books written about it.”

Blake gives her a small squeeze, and a smile. It’s reassurance for Weiss, telling her, ‘ _ you don’t have to say anything, it’s okay _ .’

But she watches Weiss slowly close her eyes, taking the smallest breath.

She thinks Weiss is one of the bravest people.

Of course, everyone is brave in their own way. Some people are brave for getting themselves out of bed each day -- for others, it was something miniscule like talking to their parents -- and maybe it’s putting a smile on and going about their day -- or being brave was about holding their head up after being kicked out by their father, being told they’re the most pathetic being in the world, being disowned, being ripped of everything, being cut off from their entire family, but still holding their head up and living their own life, proudly.

Blake would argue and fight until her last dying death against anyone who thought Weiss Schnee wasn’t brave.

“Blake?” Weiss asks again, her voice even quieter. Blake hums, smiling again. “How.. do you.. what do you feel when you’re with Yang?”

It’s as if she releases a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. To describe Yang,  _ how _ she felt with Yang. It was a simple response because Blake felt  _ everything _ when it came to Yang, she made Blake’s skin burn and ignite, like the world was caving in on itself and Blake was becoming a  _ star. _ Like she was being reborn again.

“Yang,” she starts, chewing at her lip. Weiss carefully watches her with anticipation, waiting, listening. “She makes it easier for me to breathe, to enjoy life, to laugh, to express myself. Things that are heavy, feel light and when it’s light, they’re heavy. She balances things. When I’m with her, things just make sense, it’s almost like there’s no need for an explanation.”

It just, easily poured out of her, words rolling off her tongue, escaping her throat, bouncing off her chest. 

“She  _ balances _ things,” Weiss repeats, her eyes just barely widening.

“Yeah,” Blake breathes out. Yang’s not even there with her, yet Blake can feel the warmth and comfort from talking about her.

“Thanks for telling me.”

She squeezes Weiss’ hands again whilst scooting a little closer to her. “You’re welcome,” she whispers.

Here they were, together -- growing together.

Weiss was slowly figuring herself out. She grew up in a family that forced her how to live, what to eat, what to say, how to speak, after  _ everything _ , and being kicked out was unfortunately, the best thing that ever happened for Weiss. Because even though she’s been working on herself for the last couple of years, only the last couple of weeks or even days, she has been taking that next step further -- to learning things about herself, and come to terms with herself.

Blake was slowly coming together, mending herself back together after so many years of being broken, and she had Yang to help her. She was learning to love herself again, enjoy life and start  _ living _ rather than surviving.  _ He _ wasn’t appearing everywhere anymore, not as of recent at least. She could relax, Blake could breathe.

She didn’t feel trapped, her lungs could expand, and not feel the weight of broken ribs.

They were healing, Blake was healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you have it, the long waited whiterose fluff that some of you have been wanting. Very very adorable, and cute. Simple as that.
> 
> I know this is the the chapter right after Blake and Yang get together, and it would've been nice for them to have some time to themselves or see what their relationship is like. But I really wanted to see everyone together, the whole twelve of them, haha. It was chaotic, I know, but I feel like that's the kind of dynamic they all have.
> 
> Again, I have to say it -- the friendship between Blake and Weiss!! I love it so much!! Weiss slowly figuring things out herself and being so vulnerable and open with Blake, gah!
> 
> I really hope you guys like it, this chapter was supposed to be really light and happy and fun. Because the next chapter's going to be like /intense/. I don't know how long it'll take, but thank you so much for reading!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Drop it, Yang. I’m being serious.” It’s a tone Weiss doesn’t use very often -- the one where her patience is about to snap, where she’s already pushed off the edge, where she’s not going to take anymore bullshit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: VERY GRAPHIC / ABUSE / VIOLENCE
> 
> Just be prepared, please!

_ She’s gasping, she can’t feel any air in her lungs. Blake’s sprinting as fast as she can, she’s running for her life through the streets. Her heart’s pounding in her chest, she can hear it in her ears -- she’s struggling to breathe, but she pushes herself to keep running. _

_ The engine of his motorcycle sounds so close, but everytime she looks behind her shoulder, there’s nothing there. She can hear his laugh echoing in her head, feel his breath, his voice slowly creeping up her neck. _

_ “Where are you, my love?” _

_ Rounding a corner, Blake blinks. _

_ She’s somewhere different, it takes her a moment before she realizes she’s now standing in front of the town hall in Mistral. Somewhere in front of her is Adam and Ilia spray painting all around the building. Adam’s writing ‘free the faunus’ on the front doors while Ilia paints a variety of horns and teeth on the windows. There were a dozen or two more all around the building doing just the same. _

_ Blake’s standing at the top of the stairs, carefully watching, listening. _

_ This was their third night in a row vandalizing government property. Adam encouraged it, since their peaceful protests, no matter how many they had in number, barely captured the attention of the authorities. _

_ Destruction, Adam said, was the only way for people to hear them. _

_ “Sweetheart, how many cans do we have?” Adam calls out. He carelessly tosses a paint can into the nearby bushes. He steps back to admire his handiwork, then smiles at Blake. _

_ Frowning, she replies, “I have two in my backpack.” _

_ “Great, toss me one. Ilia, have you painted anything on the pillars over there?” _

_ Blake’s ear twitches, hearing distant footsteps coming close. _

_ There’s laughter following it, and she turns to her left, immediately seeing three little kids come riding towards them on skateboards. Behind them is an adult man, and before she can say anything, she watches him quickly run to stand in front of the kids, his arms extended out, he looks winded. Blake freezes, her hands nowhere near the knife sitting on her thigh belt she’d normally be reaching for. Her eyes meet the man’s, they’re wide and terrified. The kids behind him mimic the same expression. _

_ They’re humans, but they’re innocent. _

_ For a second, Blake presumes it’s a father with his children, out for a little summer ride on skateboards. _

_ Taking a step forward, Blake blinks. _

_ The air is knocked out of her, and she’s laying on the ground with Ilia’s foot resting on her chest, pressing her down. Turning her head, Blake feels her heart drop when she sees the man laying face down on the ground, Adam sitting directly on him. _

_ “Please, just let the children go, I beg you. We didn’t do anything!” _

_ “All humans are the same, no matter what you say.” _

_ She watches Adam pull out a handgun, setting it against the man’s head. “Adam, no! Stop! They’re innocent, he has children!” _

_ Screaming, Blake slowly blinks, tears forming in her eyes. _

_ All Blake can hear is the sound of the gun ringing in her eardrums, slowly fading away. _

_ She’s somewhere different now, a cool sensation behind her. Before Blake can even open her eyes, she immediately feels the urge to throw up, her entire body is throbbing, there’s pain shooting to her chest. It’s too overwhelming. Blake hears a crack, several cracks, and a scream escapes from her mouth. There’s a burning sensation behind her eyes, her throat feels raw, and all she can taste is the bitterness of metal, of blood. _

_ “You’re worthless! You’re pathetic!” She hears someone yell. “You brought this on yourself!” _

Jolting awake, Blake snaps her eyes open, her breath hitching. There’s a soft hum beside her, and Blake slowly blinks, her eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness.

It was just another nightmare -- she’s okay, she’s safe.

There’s a stillness in the room, the only sound were the whips from the fan blades blowing in the corner. Turning her head, Yang’s hair gently brushes against her ears, tickling them. They slightly twitch as Blake turns around to lay on her side, facing Yang.

Yang’s lips are parted, quietly breathing in and out. Blake can see slight movement under her eyelids, and she smiles. Blake wondered if even in Yang’s own dreams whether she was still wild, she probably was. Untamable, completely carefree within her dreams, capable of anything she put her mind to.

Blake’s eyes travel from her hairline, down the bridge of her nose, and finally to the thin line of her mouth. She settles to look at all of Yang’s features, taking it all in, almost desperately attempting to remember every single characteristic about her face as if she would somehow forget it all one day.

She watches as Yang’s figure slowly rises and falls with each inhale and exhale. There’s a billboard that shines enough light through the window that Blake can see the outline of Yang’s body, lying just an arm’s reach away from her.

Part of her wants to snake her fingers through Yang’s hair and run her nails against her head, yet another part of her wants to lean up to Yang’s face and place the softest kisses, softly peppering them on her cheeks. But that’d result in waking her up, and Blake doesn’t want to rustle her awake.

Smiling, Blake thought of Yang as a princess who needed her beauty sleep.

Everything was too peaceful, and Yang looked too beautiful to be disturbed.

But in the end, Blake can’t help herself though. There’s a pull in her muscles, in her heart that thrusts her forward, to reach out to Yang. Wanting, longing. A small swarm of butterflies fills her stomach as Blake places a delicate kiss on Yang’s lips, careful to not wake her up. She pulls away, her lips ghosting over Yang’s, and it’s only when there’s a hot breath that hits Blake’s lips that she has to fight against herself to completely pull away.

It was only for a brief second, the simple touch between them wasn’t enough for Blake, but she didn’t want to wake Yang up.

Sighing, she slowly makes herself comfortable under the covers, but the motion stirs Yang, a soft moan and grunt mixture coming from her. Blake immediately freezes, attempting to slow her breathing down, and pretends to be asleep. She can feel Yang shuffle around on the bed beside her, slowly scooting closer to Blake, and a moment later, there’s a soft kiss placed on the top of her head between her ears.

With that, all of the worryness merely melted away from her skin.

Lazily smiling, Blake decides to open her eyes, her gold pupils slow to meet Yang’s lilacs. “Hi,” she murmurs, reaching to twirl Yang’s blonde locks between her fingers.

She sees Yang flash a small grin to her, before sleepily blinking. “C’mere,” Yang mumbles, opening her arms. Blake happily accepts the invitation, turning to press her back against Yang’s chest, the fit perfect.

They both fit perfectly together -- Blake’s head resting underneath Yang’s chin, their chests like puzzle pieces locking and unlocking together, their legs a tangled mess, their arms resting against one another.

“Mhmm,” Yang breathes out, the hotness making Blake’s ears twitch. Relaxing, she leans into Yang, letting her body completely sigh against her. “Your hair smells good, like vanilla and coconut.”

Blake’s skin felt warm, her body felt grounded, her heart flourishing, and her soul kept.

She hums, smiling to herself. She closes her eyes, listening to Yang’s breathing and slowly matching their patterns together. Within a couple of minutes, she lets the peace of sleep lull her away into a slumber, her mind already forgetting about her nightmare.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


It took a moment for Weiss to talk herself out of it -- she wanted to literally throw her scroll out the window, but she didn’t want to have to buy a new one, and go through the process of having to explain to her sister why she did it in the first place.

So, unfortunately, she had no choice but to sit through another lecture with the old man.

“Your older sister explained to me about your situation down at Beacon -- that you’ve decided to continue your education, pursuing a master’s in law.” Her father’s tone doesn’t sound too proud, but it never has from the beginning.

“I have indeed,” Weiss starts. She’s leaning against Ruby’s window, looking out the window whilst mindlessly playing with the hem of her sweater. “I’ve already been accepted into the program as well.” She can’t ignore the small part of her that’s clinging onto acceptance. It’s too far within reach, but it’s there. Maybe if --

Her father scoffs, laughing. “Practicing law is a waste of time. The Schnee family has a successful business, therefore; you  _ should’ve _ pursued business.”

It was rash for her to think of it. Weiss lets go of her sweater, sighing as she pinches the bridge of her nose. Here they go again with this conversation, he just wouldn’t drop it. He would never drop it, that’s the fact.

“Are we really going to go over this again?”

“I have talked to a few of my partners, and they are willing to give you a business internship in Atlas during the summer. And maybe if you’re well behaved, then they might extend it into the fall.” He says, bypassing her question.

Of course he would ignore her. He always ignored her.

“Oh but I’m -- what was it called, what did you call it -- exiled, banished, thrown out, kicked out? The list just goes on and on, I can’t exactly remember which one specifically.”

“You insufferable, pathetic, little girl, ” her father hisses. “How dare you use that tone with me?”

She chews on her bottom lip. “I actually enjoy using it though, it adds some flair to my personality, don’t you think? You told me I had a rather dull character growing up, said I always needed to lighten my attitude.” Weiss says, switching her scroll to her other hand.

He grunts in response, and the corner of Weiss’ mouth twitches. “I remember teaching you manners. To be respectful, to be  _ smart _ . Not ignorant and childish.”

“Oh you did, don’t worry, I vividly remember you teaching me,” she says, amused. Talking to her father in this tone was a bit pleasing. Ever since she was kicked out, she’s grown more and more fond of talking to him the same way he spoke to her.

“Obviously not,” he snaps, bemused. “You would not be making foolish decisions, speaking dumbly. You’re disappointing the family name. You are no Schnee.”

“I have  _ always _ been a Schnee. I was  _ born _ into this family. You on the other hand, were  _ married  _ into the family. I am making these decisions for  _ myself _ , not for you or anyone else. For me. As much I would  _ love _ to make you proud of me, I think I’m going to stick with law, father.”

Weiss definitely struck a nerve because she felt her entire heart snap.

“And to actually think you’re my own daughter, my very own flesh and blood. I’m very disappointed in you.”

She can feel a little break in her heart, but she purses her lips, swallowing thickly. “That would make two of us then because I’m disappointed to have you as a father. Even better, to ever have considered you as a father. I’ve had to grow up thinking of you as a father figure, watching you destroy lives and businesses for your personal gain. You’re a dirty business dealer who uses blackmail, money, and power to get whatever you want.”

That’s what Weiss told him when she was first kicked out of the family, and here she is, doing it again. And she’ll do it again the next time she talks to him.

“You are a little brat! I would hold your tongue if I were you, otherwise I will make sure you will never get hired by any major law firm.”

“That’s your way of scaring me? Jeopardizing my career? Threatening your own daughter, a twenty one year old woman.  _ Please _ , father, you’re the last thing I’m concerned about.”

“I’m going to teach you a lesson, child. And you’ll learn the reality of the world you’re walking into.”

“You don’t even know what I’m doing with my life -- not that you bothered to ask or even care.”

“Oh, I suppose you’re going to support the faunus then? Support the poor communities? Support the lower end of society? Even if you are a Schnee, not even you can make a change, girl.”

Weiss almost wants to laugh, but she holds it in, gripping her sweater. “I am,” she firmly says. “For decades, you have destroyed towns, destroyed families, and destroyed lives. I’m going to spend my entire life rebuilding the Schnee name from the ground, starting with  _ destroying _ you.”

“Do not throw threats around if you do not intend on keeping them,” her father says lowly. Weiss shivers.

“And I can say the same to you too.”

“Do not think I’ll keep my word. I will make sure every law firm does not hire you.”

“I think we’re done here. I only called because I wanted to wish you a happy holiday, father.”

“You aren’t wondering how your little brother is doing?” Her father asks, and before Weiss can roll her eyes, he adds, “Or your mother?”

Weiss can easily imagine her father at his desk in his office, leaning in his seat, smiling as he said that. The unappealing smirk he has, pleased, thinking he has her  _ wrapped _ around his finger, thinking he has  _ control _ over her now.

“When I’m telling your mother of the unfortunate news that you won’t be coming home  _ again _ this holiday, she’s going to be extremely devastated,” he says insolently. “She probably won’t be leaving her bedroom for weeks or so. Shame.”

There’s a pause, and Weiss is holding her breath.

“But you’re right, girl. I do think we’re done here. I do not approve of your sister’s decisions to.. support you, but I will not pursue any further actions upon that.”

She doesn’t even have the chance to say anything back before the line cuts off and she’s listening to a buzz -- her father hanging up on her.

Weiss lets herself fall onto Ruby’s ottoman, feeling small wet trickles fall down her cheeks. She despises the feelings her father makes her feel -- no matter how well she prepares herself or strongly holds up her walls.

Nothing she does works.

For the third time, Weiss didn’t go back home for the holiday. She didn’t want to of course, she’d been kicked out of the family, she didn’t want anything to do with them. But in the end, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty of leaving behind her family.

After all, she was taught that blood matters growing up. Her father’s blood ran through her own veins, so that meant she was entitled to her family name, forced to take up her family’s responsibilities, forced to endure her father’s mistakes.

Everything she was told, she was told by her father. Everything she believed, her father told her.

Even after years and years of telling herself otherwise, undoing the brainwashing her father enforced on her, Weiss was still having to do it. She had to change her thought process, reprogram herself to think otherwise.

There was just  _ something _ her father would say, and everything inside her would easily fall apart.

Humiliated, vulnerable, and  _ pathetic _ .

Of course, she’s been focusing on the positivity of being kicked out -- she’s living at a very prime time in her life right now. She’s been in contact with several law firms to shadow over the summer, she’s been accepted into the law program, she has the support of her sister both emotionally and mentally -- Weiss could care less if she was financially stable. She’s happy, content, and pleased with where she’s at in life.

And most importantly, Weiss was figuring out that she’s a lesbian. She hasn’t exactly put a specific label on herself yet, but for now, that’s what she went with.

It’s a process, Weiss understands that.

For nearly her entire life, her father controlled every aspect and she lived in complete isolation. She was taught to only be the best because she was the best.

Now, she has freedom, the chains were broken and completely destroyed. She has friends, a different family. She’s failed and pushed through it, working to become successful rather than be given it.

She’s loved, and she loves.

Weiss hears a soft knock on the door, immediately knowing it’s Ruby because she can hear Blake and Yang conversing in the living room. And as much as Weiss wants to tell Ruby to go away, she can’t bring herself to do so.

She doesn’t think she ever would.

“Weiss?” Ruby timidly calls out, opening the door just a bit. “I’m making a cup of hot chocolate, would you like one?”

Ruby’s head slowly peaks into the room, time nearly pauses when their eyes meet. Even though she’s crying, Weiss can’t look away -- those bright silver eyes almost freezes her. She can clearly see all of Ruby’s emotions expressed on her face, through her eyes.

Eagerness, confusion, sympathy, realization, want.

Maybe that’s what draws her to Ruby so much, Weiss concludes.

Her entire life, Weiss has had to decipher people’s emotions, her own emotions, careful to not display them -- it’d show vulnerability, weakness. But right now, simply by looking at Ruby, Weiss realizes that that’s not the case.

Weiss parts her lips, trembling, she tries to hide it, but fails. Not miserably, but contently almost. 

“Hey,” Ruby says, “I can leave -”

“No,” she says, it comes out a little quicker than she had anticipated. “No, it’s okay. Please, come in. Just excuse me, I’m a mess right now,” Weiss mumbles, wiping at her eyes. “Sorry that you have to see me like this.”

Ruby shakes her head, offering a smile. “It’s okay, but you don't have anything to apologize for. Do.. do you want to talk about it?”

“It was my father, I just got off a call with him. We have.. some problematic differences,” she says, sniffling. She didn’t want to explain  _ what _ she and her father were talking about, yet alone reveal to Ruby how her father speaks to her.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Weiss wants to say no, wants to drop the conversation and forget about her call with her father, but that’s running away. And if there’s  _ one _ good thing she learned from her father, it’s to never run away -- be brave and face fear, even if it’s terrifying, painful, or just hard.

“We had some disagreement about my future, and about my life decisions. He’s trying to control my actions and threatens me when I speak out against him. It’s how I lost my heiress title to the company and my entire inheritance. Which --” she lets out a heavy sigh. “-- I’m not exactly  _ pleased _ with, but if that’s what has to happen for me to pursue my law career, then so be it.”

It was.. quite the load, Weiss wasn’t going to lie. The drama her family had was something the press desperately loved, like children wanting candy.

“I’m sorry that you have a father like that,” Ruby says. She sits down beside Weiss, their knees softly brushing against each other. There’s no tension between them, Ruby doesn’t push her to say anything else, doesn’t ask any further questions.

They’ve figured out each other’s cues, know when to speak, what to say. The four of them have spent the last month together, having multiple study sessions together, long chats at BB’s, mental breakdowns in the library because of classes.

But her and Weiss have spent even more time together -- Weiss would often come over to Ruby’s to share hot chocolate or Ruby would invite her to come study in her studio because it wasn’t as crowded as the library, Ruby would often ask for Weiss’ input about her project.

In some way, Ruby knows more about Weiss than Blake does, and Weiss doesn’t feel guilty about it.

“He’s made me who I am today,” she says. It’s an awful response, but Weiss doesn’t exactly know what to say. 

It was a cruel truth.

“That doesn’t excuse the way he’s treating you.”

Weiss’ heart falters a bit, a nerve to her heart simply snapped. “No, it doesn’t.”

“I remember hearing on the news about the Schnee Energy Company, about how the father denounced his daughter of her title, making her an ex-heiress.” Ruby fidgets with the edge of her blanket, and Weiss wants to ask why she’s so nervous. What she’s trying to convey to her. “The media, her father portrayed her as this selfish teenager who ignored the responsibilities that were entrusted to her.”

The painful memory easily strikes her heart, Ruby’s shot hitting the target without batting an eye. Weiss doesn’t like the feeling. “Wow, I’m already feeling much better, thank you,” she says flatly, annoyed.

Ruby, instead, smiles chastely and genuine once again. “When I first met you, it was as Blake’s friend - Weiss. I stepped into your kitchen, thinking about how delicious your food looked and smelled. I started drooling on the spot,” Ruby says bashfully, giggling.

Weiss rolls her eyes at the comment, but takes the compliment like she usually does with any. She doesn’t anticipate the aftermath though, a trail of warm touches against her skin, her body slowly becoming all too warm for her now.

“Ever since that day, I’ve had the privilege to hang out with you, laugh with you, share cups of hot chocolate with you, see how you’re a maniac at two a.m. after three cups of coffee. Or witness how amazing of a cook you are, and how you’re loving and almost  _ hateful _ at the same time, it’s really impressive.”

Weiss laughs, and the reaction leaves a happy and pleased Ruby.

“I’d hardly call that a privilege,” she murmurs, shrugging. The distinct memory of the two of them sitting in Ruby’s studio at two in the morning made Weiss a bit.. she couldn’t help but flush at the memory.

“But it was, it is,” Ruby argues, her tone nothing but seriousness.

Weiss brings her knees up to her chest, curling herself inwards. She never enjoyed talking about herself, or listening to people talk about her, and she didn’t know how to feel when it was Ruby speaking about her.

They’re sitting on the ottoman together, but Ruby doesn’t try to touch her, doesn’t try to come closer to her. Weiss wishes she did.

“Because I get to know the real you, not the Weiss Schnee your father talks about, the way the media portrays you. I get to see first hand, just how driven, passionate, loving, responsible, and considerate you are. And even that, is not enough to describe you.”

Weiss was wrong, very wrong.

It wasn’t that she enjoyed listening to Ruby speak about her -- she did, of course, but it was more Weiss realizing that that’s how Ruby saw her.

“You’re Weiss Schnee, your last name doesn’t define who you are, and your father sure as hell doesn’t.”

“Ruby,” Weiss mumbles, hesitant on what to say next, almost scared to let herself speak.

When Ruby takes a hold of her hands, Weiss can feel her heart skip a beat. Her skin wasn’t exactly smooth, and not too callused from engineering, but rather..  _ used.  _ “You know, your father is very wrong about you,” Ruby softly says. Her voice like a wind, whispering in her ear, carefully touching her heart. 

Weiss opens her mouth, but nothing comes out, her breath left sitting on her lips. For a split second, she sees Ruby glance down, her eyes daring, and then their eyes meet again. Neither of them moves, Weiss doesn’t think she can.

“I believe you’ll change the world, Weiss.”

She wanted to ask  _ why, why do you believe in me so much _ , but Weiss felt as if she knew the answer already. She felt the world whispering to her, the universe shining in Ruby’s eyes as if a star had been born.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“Did you get Goodwitch to look over your application yet?” Weiss asks, stretching her legs out on the chaise. 

Blake hums, taking her time at sipping her hot chocolate, enjoying the warmness. Ruby had just made fresh mugs for all four of them, something Blake has grown to appreciate very much as of recent. They had a comforting ability. Weiss was laying sprawled out on the chaise, Blake and Yang conquered the couch, while Ruby was off tending to something in her room.

“I did, she did it right before break. Wasn’t too happy about it since I barely got it submitted before the deadline,” she says, rolling her head to glance over at Yang.

Her girlfriend sheepishly lowers her eyes, loudly slurping at her hot chocolate. “I hadn’t seen you all week and I was wanting attention. Besides, you weren’t exactly, opposing any of it.”

Ruby makes a disgusted face, dropping her tongue. “I don’t even want to know.”

“Oh  _ yes _ , I couldn’t take my hands off of her -”

“Yang!!” Ruby squeals, clamping the palm of her hands over her ears.

Yang grins very dangerously, and Blake wouldn’t bat any eye if Yang were to do something to her right then and there. She could do  _ anything _ to Blake if she wanted.

Realizing her own desires, Blake immediately feels the blood rush to her cheeks, her lips. Heat surges to the insides of her thighs, and Blake has to look away, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes.

“ _ Anyways, _ ” Weiss glances at Blake, narrowing her eyes. “Did Goodwitch say anything about you attending next fall?”

“It went fine, Weiss,” Blake replies, playfully rolling her eyes. “She was ecstatic that I was pursuing my master’s, gave me a couple of contacts that I could email for the summer too.”

“They’re all in Mistral, you know that, right?”

Blake’s eyes widen, contracting. There’s a knot in her stomach that tightens. “I  _ did _ ,” she nearly hisses, gritting her teeth. “I haven’t had the chance to email them yet.”

Yang casts a worried glance to her, straightening up on the couch. “Wait, you might go to Mistral for the summer? You didn’t tell me that.”

Blake glares at Weiss briefly, and Weiss’ mouth shapes into an o form, once realizing her mistake. She has a pained expression, mouthing ‘ _ I’m sorry _ ,’ to Blake before sipping at her hot chocolate. The irritation quickly dissolves, the sensation of the burn gone -- it wasn’t Weiss’ fault, and Blake refuses to blame someone when it’s clearly her own fault.

She turns to Yang, shaking her head. “A very slim chance,” she reassures, her voice leveled. Yang looks broken, and Blake doesn’t know how to mend her back together, but she’s willing and hoping to find out. Yang should never be broken or hurt. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything this summer anyways.” Blake sees Weiss listen intently in her peripheral. “I had an internship last summer, and I thought I’d take this one to relax, travel.”

“Vacation?” Weiss unsurprisingly says. Of course, she would jump on the opportunity whenever she could.

“As much as I loved spending time in Atlas, I don’t think it’d be a smart decision, considering you’re basically, what, banned? -- from Atlas?”

Yang coughs, choking on thin air. Blake looks at her over her cup of hot chocolate, amused. “Hold up, you’re banned from Atlas? How do you manage to get banned from an entire city?”

“When you have Jacques Schnee as your father,” Weiss mutters, bemused. “I’m not exactly  _ banned _ , but I’m also not very welcomed there either.”

Blake, noticing the mood in the room, decides to change the topic. “I noticed the piece of paper on your counter from your landlord. Are you resigning to live here for next year?”

Yang tuts, shrugging. “I kind of like living here, it’s nice and cozy,” she says, gently patting the arm of the couch, grinning.

“More like depressing and congested,” Weiss counters, grimacing.

Yang nudges Weiss' foot, pushing it off the coffee table. She receives a glare from Weiss, and Yang barks out a laugh. “Not all of us can afford an apartment that takes up an entire floor.”

“It was a gift from my sister,” Weiss shoots back. She never turned down gifts, saying they were acts of ‘love.’ 

“The apartment she had first was even bigger,” Blake teases.

“How?” Yang asks, shocked. “It’s an entire floor, how do you manage to get a place larger than that?”

Weiss huffs out a heavy sigh, rolling her eyes. “My father bought me a house.”

The reaction Yang has is expected, it’s everyone’s reaction honestly. Her jaw drops as she processes the idea of it, her eyes freeze, and her eyebrows are furrowed. It was adorable, seeing Yang like this. Blake nearly lets out a laugh, but she just lets the corner of her mouth curl.

Being friends with Weiss was amusing to Blake -- in the way that most people were always surprised by simply how much wealth and power Weiss had -- still has.

“That’s so..” Yang’s voice trails off, unsure how to word the sentence without being offensive.

“It was absolutely ridiculous.”

“I actually enjoyed the house,” Blake says dryly.

“Only because I had a sauna, you were nearly at my house every single day because of that,” Weiss chirps, smiling slyly. 

“I have plenty to offer here, please, indulge yourself into whatever you like.” Yang gestures, waving her hands aimlessly.

“Oh yes, I am famished by the selection of fruit you have on display, and the different choices of blankets.”

Yang tosses “Ha  _ ha. _ Very funny.”

“I like to think I am,” Weiss says, lightly laughing.

Blake laughs with her, leaning over to run her thumb over Yang’s cheek. “I love your apartment, babe.”

“Thank you, I’m happy  _ someone  _ appreciates my living space. But I’d rather have it from a certain someone else since they’re here almost every single day.”

Blake’s lip twitches, and she takes a sip of her hot chocolate. She enjoyed listening to Yang and Weiss converse between one another, it was amusing.. to an extent. Hearing them banter back and forth reminded of how Blake and Weiss bantered, and it brought warm, comforting bubbles in her stomach.

“I’m not talking down on your apartment, it just possesses certain qualities that aren’t to my liking,” she says. All three of their eyes look over to Ruby when she walks out of her room, her eyes glistening and almost.. unreadable.

“I like living here,” Ruby murmurs, taking a seat beside Weiss. The chaise only sat one person, it was very obvious -- that didn’t stop Ruby though.

And Weiss was definitely not expecting that.

For a moment, Blake saw the smallest slip up from Weiss, watching as she covered it up with an abrupt cough. The corners of her mouth curl, quickly diverting her eyes. Her eyes settle on an art piece Yang’s father had commissioned for Ruby when she graduated.

What a power move, Blake thought.

Once Weiss’ coughing attack had subsided, she mumbles, “I respect that, everyone has their opinions.”

Yang rolls her eyes, shaking her head. “And you clearly only value Ruby’s more than mine.”

“That I do,” Weiss says without any hesitation. Ruby beams with a bright smile, sticking her tongue out at Yang.

“Well, Sun’s graduating in the spring, so I’m going to have to look for another apartment soon, or find a new roommate,” Blake says, the corner of her lips twitching.

Yang nudges her arm with her foot, grinning loosely. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“And what thoughts are you thinking, may I ask?” She knew where this was going, she knew Yang.

“U-haul baby! Almost two months in, we need to pick up the pace.” Yang jokes half heartedly, grinning. Blake wants to push her against the couch and wipe that grin off.

“ _ Please _ , just go have sex already,” Weiss says dryly, rolling her eyes.

Blake ignores the jab, and looks over at Yang. “I don’t know if I could live here, yet alone with you,” she teases. “I’m perfectly fine at my apartment, I have my own balcony.”

“I have a fire escape! That’s something!” Yang argues mildly, frowning.

“Sorry, let me rephrase. I have my own private balcony.”

“Blake does live within a couple of blocks from campus though, I suppose that’s the main reason why she prefers her apartment,” Weiss points out.

“Oh yes, and you need your cat naps. What if I upgrade to a better mattress, would that convince you to move in with me?”

Blake rolls her eyes, smiling. Yang already had a wonderfully comfortable bed, in fact, she spent most of her nights here.

“Plus, 5th is much quieter than 12th. I don’t understand how you live near an emergency station. Those damn sirens blaring constantly would keep me awake.”

Everything shifted so quickly inside Blake, that her breath was displaced, her thoughts scattered, and she can feel nausea pouring into her stomach. “I don’t mind it,” she says quickly. The words spill out of her mouth so fast, it surprises her when Yang doesn’t catch it.

“It’s a safer street,” Weiss adds, drawing the attention to her, away from Blake.

“Speaking about emergencies, apparently there was this crazy accident that happened a few years ago on 5th. My neighbor told me about it when we first moved in. He said you can see it where it happened if you look out of Ruby’s window, right in the alley beside the red building.” Yang says, quirking her eyebrows.

Blake freezes, her eyes immediately looking at Weiss, their eyes meeting. Weiss has her lips parted, neither of them daring a move to say or do anything.

They both knew exactly where this was going.

“Yang, I hate it when you talk about that! It’s so scary,” Ruby whines, bringing her knees to her chest. She sinks down, tightening the blanket wrapped around her.

“But the screams, Ruby. Everyone can hear them at night, her scream echoes in the alleyways every once in a while, waking people up from their nightmares. She’s standing right outside your window, watching, crying.”

_ Her screams _

Ruby covers her ears and shuts her eyes. “Stop it!!”

When Weiss glances over at Yang, Blake looks away, her eyes fixed on the rose painting hanging on the wall across from them. She has to hold onto the arm of the couch to keep herself balanced, to stay upright.

Weiss roughly clears her throat, eyes never leaving Yang. Blake can feel the tension, the temperature rising in the room, or maybe it’s just her. Her breath is caught in her throat, stuck in her mouth.

“Please, can we talk about something else? Anything really, I’m up for anything. Ruby, can I sleep in your bed tonight?” Weiss offers.

The sudden topic change would normally give Blake slight whiplash, but she can only feel the acheness on her chest, inside her chest. The other two though, are caught off guard.

Ruby snaps her head in Weiss' direction, mouth completely gaped, eyes widened. “Uh.. yeah.. yeah sure!” There’s a pinkness to her cheeks, but no one seems to mind it.

“Perfect, we’re going to need extra blankets and pillows,” Weiss says. Blake can almost hear the desperation in her voice.

“Come on, Weiss. Don’t tell me you’re getting freaked out too?”

“I’m asking very  _ nicely _ , Yang. Please, talk about something else.”

She can see Weiss glare at Yang, and as much as she wants to stop Weiss from doing so, Blake can’t bring herself to say anything. Weiss is glaring at Yang, her girlfriend, but Blake can’t actually do it. She doesn’t trust her voice right now.

But Weiss is being her voice.

Yang, being the stubborn beauty she is, looks like she wants to test Weiss almost. Blake wonders if Yang is seeing this as a little game, seeing just how far she can push Weiss -- Yang doesn’t see the seriousness in the topic, but she’s about to.

“Drop it, Yang. I’m being serious.” It’s a tone Weiss doesn’t use very often -- the one where her patience is about to snap, where she’s already pushed off the edge, where she’s not going to take anymore bullshit.

It catches Yang by surprise, and Blake reaches to hold Yang’s hand, her eyes softening. It’s not her fault, Blake thinks. Yang doesn’t know about the accident, she doesn’t know why Weiss is being snappy towards her.

So Blake gives her a smile, it’s small, but it’s the best she can do for now.  _ Be brave _ , she’s telling herself. Taking a small heavy breath, she says, “I really want to know about the story your neighbor told you though. Go ahead.” Blake barely shrugs her shoulders at Weiss who looks a little shocked, but doesn’t push her. 

Her and Yang have been together for about a month and a half, and Blake’s been getting a bit restless due to her nightmares every so often. She can’t hide her past from Yang -- she’s not trying to, it’s just.. difficult for her to bring it up. Not when Blake wants her relationship with Yang to be  _ more _ .

There just hasn’t been a good opportunity for Blake to bring it up.

But then again, when is there a good opportunity to bring him up?

But now, she’s done running away from her past, running away from  _ Adam _ . Now, she’s done with the excuses. Blake has Yang now, she knows that Yang will support her no matter what.

She’s going to find out sooner or later, whether it’s from Blake having more nightmares or when Adam comes back into her life again -- he will, Blake knows that.

It was only a matter of time.

Everything was converging on one point, and Blake couldn’t stop it -- she didn’t want to stop it. 

She had to do it, it’s the only way forward.

“Well, August, my neighbor, said he was putting together his dining table when he heard a woman scream outside his window. When he looked outside, there were three people in the alley, two women and one man. Apparently one of the women got beaten up pretty badly because there were, I think he said seven emergency cars and two medic vans.”

Weiss still had the power of her family name then, so when she called emergency services from a Schnee line, they had sent ten vehicles to the scene.

“It’s crazier everytime you tell the story,” Ruby mumbles.

It was a bit odd for Blake to hear the story from an outside perspective. She didn’t realize someone else knew what had happened, yet alone hear it from someone else -- hear it from Yang, her own girlfriend.

“They put the woman on a carrier and put her into one of the vans and headed straight for the health center. He talked about how the man, who was unconscious, had woken up screaming and yelling all over the place. He beat up five officers, and almost killed one, but he was going for the other woman actually. They were protecting the hell out of her, August said it was rough, the dude just wouldn’t go down.”

Yang takes a breath, shaking her head.

“But he said about fifteen minutes worth of fighting, they were able to sedate him and the authorities finally shoved him into a car. The woman gave a statement or so, and that’s when August went back to finishing his table.”

“I wonder what happened,” Ruby quietly says, resting her chin on her knees.

“Something fucked up probably. August said that the woman looked broken when they carried her away. He must’ve messed her up really badly.”

Blake has to bite down on her tongue.

She watches Weiss have a similar reaction because she slowly turns towards the window, bringing her hand to her mouth and biting down on her index finger. Blake wasn’t the only one who noticed the gesture because Ruby was tentatively reaching out to her, worried.

“Weiss, are you okay?”

Her gaze doesn’t leave the window, but Blake can see a few tears fall down her cheek, and Blake has to look away. Weiss crying only meant that Blake was going to start crying soon -- it was inevitable honestly. They were talking about the most traumatic experience in Blake’s life, and neither Yang or Ruby knew.

Weiss was letting Blake walk her pace because this story was about  _ her _ , not Weiss. Weiss couldn’t, wouldn’t say anything, not until Blake said something.

“Weiss,” Blake starts, her voice shuddering. Yang immediately reaches for her, but Blake shakes her head, crying. The burning sensation behind her eyes intensifies when she shakes her head even harder. “Weiss was the woman who gave that statement.”

Yang’s freezes, confused, it takes a moment for her to process the words. The silence that’s sitting in the room between all of them is unbearable.

Ruby’s the first to say something, it’s timid. “Wait, what? What are you talking about?”

She looks at Weiss, they’re both silently crying, but Weiss manages to give her a small nod.  _ Be brave _ , it says.  _ Because you are brave _ .

Taking a breath, Blake forces down a thick swallow. Anxiety and fear are twisting and turning inside her stomach, and she can’t stop it. But she can push through it.

“The accident, Weiss was the one who called emergency services and spoke to them.” She repeats, meeting Ruby’s eyes. Slowly, so slowly, Blake turns and meets Yang’s gaze. “And I’m the one who was carried away in the medic van,” she whispers, watching as Yang makes sense of her words. Her ears immediately flatten at her confession.

It was off her chest now, so why did it feel like there was still a weight on her ribs?

“No,” Ruby says, her eyes shooting to Weiss, who looks away. That’s the confirmation they both need.

“What?” Yang softly cries out, and Blake can see the tremble behind her eyes, almost not wanting to believe her.

“It happened during the spring semester our freshman year,” she says, looking down at their hands. She rubs her thumb over Yang’s, the comfort helps, but just a little. “I was working on getting out of my six year relationship -- my toxic relationship -- with a guy named Adam.”

“That’s who your nightmares are about, aren’t they?” Yang asks, squeezing her hand.

Nodding, Blake glances at the ceiling, feeling the tears flow down her face. Taking a small breath, she presses on. “When Adam found me that day, he was so  _ angry _ with me. He wanted to punish me for leaving him -- he did punish me. He found me that day, and dragged me to the alley where he did whatever he wanted. Weiss was the one who found me and stopped Adam by tasing him.”

“What the  _ fuck _ ?” Yang breathes out. There’s disbelief all over her face, Blake wants nothing more but to crawl into Yang’s lap and just cry. “What the fuck?!”

Blake grabs both of Yang’s hands, hoping to project any sort of calmness onto her -- maybe receive some back. “It’s okay,” she reassures, but she knows better.

And so does Yang.

“The fuck it isn’t! He nearly  _ killed _ you, babe.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

Yang growls, and for a brief second, Blake could’ve sworn she saw redness in her eyes. “That’s not the point!”

“Blake,” Weiss warns. “You were in the hospital for nearly a month, and a wheelchair for two. He literally  _ beat _ you to death.”

“A month?!” Yang seethes, eyes completely red now, a bright red. Like flames. Flames that roared with uncontrollable rage. Blake almost wanted to let out a whimper, not because she was scared or uncomfortable, but maybe just overwhelmed. “What did he do to you?”

The achness that sat on Blake’s ribs stiffened, the memory of Adam’s kicks hitting harder and harder every time she breathed. “He just hurt me,” she says.

“ _ Blake, _ ” Weiss stresses, glaring.

Her ears flattened against her hair again, ashamed. Ashamed to admit what he really did to her, that he truly  _ broke _ her. Sighing, Blake felt herself give in. “He broke four of my ribs and fractured two of them. And he gave me a mild concussion.”

There. She said it.

Adam had broken four of her ribs.

The two ribs he fractured have healed, and the other four have mainly healed -- but there was still a lingering achness on them, on her chest.

Her concussion on the other hand, though Blake didn’t have any brain damage, she did suffer from memory issues. But she didn’t forget anything, it was rather the opposite, she vividly remembered her memories with Adam. Any memories of him, they were as clear as if she was experiencing them at that second.

“Are they still hurting at all? Have you been going to PT once a month?” Weiss asks, wiping her tears away.

She couldn’t lie to Weiss.

One, Weiss would see right through it. Two, they promised to never lie to each other, no matter what, no matter how difficult the truth was.

“Yeah, it’s been hurting recently,” Blake says, eyes darting side to side. She sees Yang in the corner of her eye frown, upset. “It’s because of Adam, the nightmares I’ve been having. Everything goes back to him. And it doesn’t hurt too badly, it’s just aching.” She quickly reassures, running her hand up and down Yang’s arm. “I’m okay, really.”

“Four ribs, he broke four of your ribs.”

“And what about your physical therapy? Have you been going to your sessions?”

“Are you sure you’re okay? You said your head’s been hurting too.”

“What? Your head’s been hurting? Did you tell your doctor?”

“You  _ guys _ ,” Blake urges, glancing between Weiss and Yang. “Enough, please. Yes, my chest has been hurting -- it’s a bit difficult to breathe sometimes, but I’m fine. My head too, it’s just minor headaches. And no, I haven’t been to the doctor yet, we just finished up the semester so I haven’t had the time. I’m fine, really, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

She meets Weiss’ eyes, determined.

Blake looks over at Yang, reassuring.

“We’re just worried about you,” Yang softly says, wiping away her tears. Her eyes have returned to the bright lilac color, the depth quickly warms Blake’s skin.

“I’m -”

Blake shakes her head. “Don’t apologize, I understand. Just don’t rapid fire me with questions.”

She watches as they both nod at her, and Blake lets out a breath, one she didn’t realize she was holding. 

“So.. where.. where is he? He can’t get to you, right?” Ruby quietly asks.

Weiss darts her eyes over to Ruby, shaking her head. She places a hand on Ruby’s knee, scooting close to her. “He’s in prison right now, serving seven years. I should call my sister to see how his imprisonment is doing.”

“That was three years years ago,” Yang says, creasing her eyebrows.

Blake felt a pained expression cross her face, and she had to let out a small breath. The awareness that Adam was bound to find her, that he’d come for her -- it sent chills down her body, her spine.

“Blake has a protection order against him, there’s no way for him to get close to her.”

“The fucking hell he is,” Yang snaps, pulling Blake to her chest. Arms are immediately wrapped around her, and Blake softly sighs against Yang. There’s comfort and security within her arms, a warmth that fills the cracks in her ribs.

“I can’t believe that happened to you,” Ruby murmurs. “To both of you.” She glances at Weiss, who gives Ruby a gentle smile, rubbing her hand.

Yes, it was the most traumatic event in Blake’s life, and it was traumatic for Weiss as well. Weiss wasn’t beaten to death and doesn’t have a delusional ex-boyfriend, but the experience was still traumatic for Weiss.

She witnessed Blake get beaten up, witnessed Adam beat up multiple authorities, witnessed Adam trying to beat  _ her  _ up, witnessed it all.

It was traumatic.

Weiss’ trauma is just as valid as Blake’s.

“We’re getting through it,” Weiss says, slowly meeting Blake’s eyes. “Together.”

Yang lays her head on Blake’s shoulder, her breath immediately sending warmth to Blake’s stomach and shivers down her back. They weren’t cold shivers, almost like hot kisses down her back, each one placed delicately onto her skin. “And we’ll be here to support you both, always,” she murmurs.

“Together,” Ruby repeats, her eyes meeting Weiss’. Weiss smiles, reaching to take a hold of Ruby’s hand.

“Together,” Blake says.

It was a promise between all four of them.

It was a promise to Blake and to themselves.

Being with  _ Yang _ , felt like home. Blake could breathe in the fresh air, and the achness that weighed on her chest was from comfort and love. A laugh would easily roll off her lips, and she wouldn’t mind it if the sides of her body started to hurt. There was an undeniable familiarity that they both had, an unspeakable connection that they both understood. With Yang, she could take down the walls around her heart, unfold her love.

Being with  _ all three of them _ , it felt like a new life -- like living. Whenever she was with them, there was unconditional love ringing in the air all around them. They had their own language and communication between them, signals and tones they understood. With them, Blake could be herself, untouched, she could let her heart be worn on her sleeves.

Everything was out and exposed, Blake felt raw and vulnerable -- all of her walls were torn down, sunlight shining into every crack and corner inside her. There wasn’t any terror or doubt that lingered inside her, if there were, a glance at her friends would simply blind it away.

They’re it.

  
They’re her family.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“Bye Ilia, have a good night,” Blake says as they both walk out of the back door of BB’s. 

Pulling her hoodie over her head, Ilia grunts. She grimaces when the cold wind hits against her cheek, biting it. “Goodnight Blake,” Ilia calls out over her shoulder, walking away.

She makes it down a couple yards down the alley before slowing her pace. It’s not until Ilia hears Yang’s motorcycle turn on that she looks at them while leaning against a building, coloring herself to match the shadows -- Blake has a small smile on her face as she climbs onto the back. She sees Yang grin, saying something that makes Blake lightly laugh. And then they’re off, driving off down the street and into the night.

Ilia turns to head down the street, changing back to her normal color. It’s lightly snowing, and the temperature is dropping even more, but that doesn’t make Ilia walk faster. She enjoys walking at night, as dangerous as it is, it’s almost calming for her.

It’s Wednesday, and students were still on break during the winter holiday, so that meant slow nights. She didn’t mind it, she preferred quieter nights, a quieter city. There was a stillness that stood above the city, it almost made time slow down even.

Ilia walks past two street musicians, one playing a makeshift drum set while the other plays the trumpet. Not paying much attention to them, she makes her way across a crosswalk, ignoring obnoxious cat calls and hollers behind her.

She quickly walked further down the street, slowing down only when she saw street lights lit above an outdoor sitting area.

“Hey Ulma,” she quietly says, bypassing a woman sitting on the steps. She nods at Ilia, tapping her the ash off her cigarette.

Ilia climbs up the stairs to her studio on the third floor -- she lives right above a family owned bakery in the morning, then a late night pastry dessert shop at night. Climbing up the steps, she fumbles for her keys in her bag. There’s two locks on her front door, but taking her time to unlock both, she only hears one click.

Both of her locks are always locked when she leaves..

Stepping in, something feels very wrong the second Ilia enters her apartment. Narrowing her eyes, she carefully sets her bag down and peels off her outer coat, slowly changing her skin color to match the darkness. She walks through the kitchen and quietly grabs a knife off the counter, listening, waiting.

Nothing seems out of the ordinary, it doesn’t look like someone came in and robbed her. But she can smell someone,  _ someone’s _ here in the apartment with her. But where? Making her way past her dining area towards the living area, Ilia tries to look around, but she can’t see in the dark very well.

“Why hello,  _ Ilia _ ,” she hears someone say.

Spinning around, Ilia flicks her living room light. Shocked and horrified, the knife drops from her hand, clattering on the wood floor beneath her. She feels her entire body freeze at the sight of the intruder. 

Of Adam.

Adam’s right there in front of her, sitting in her studio apartment, sitting right on her futon with his legs propped on her coffee table, looking comfortable as if he’s been there for hours.

“I was wondering when you’d get home. You kept me waiting for a while.”

Nothing goes through Ilia’s head, she can’t think, she can’t breathe. 

“A-Adam,” she whispers shakily, as if her own voice is betraying her. “What are -”

It happens all too quickly.

Adam closes the space between them, jumping off the futon and slamming Ilia’s back against the wall. Her picture frames fall onto the ground, glass breaking. One of his hands is wrapped around her throat while the other is pinning her hands above her head. The air is nearly knocked out of her, and Ilia can barely keep her eyes open. She can’t breathe. Gripping her throat, he shakes her until she feels awake again, her eyes opening.

Everything’s hitting her all at once, the anxiety and awareness. The thought of being killed tonight, the guilt of never apologizing, the regret of not being able to live her life, the thought of dying at twenty one.

She wants to scream, scream for help until there’s nothing in her lungs.

But Ilia knew that if she did that, Adam would only hurt her -- hurt her more if he was going to already.

“This is what’s going to happen,” Adam mutters, his left blue eye looking straight into her eyes. “I’m going to ask you some basic questions, and you’re going to give me all the information I want about Blake and this  _ human _ she’s been hanging out with.”

The realization slowly dawns on her, and she suddenly feels the burning behind her eyes. She watched as Adam grinned, baring his teeth, almost feral like. Ilia can’t stop the tears from streaming down her cheeks.

He wanted to get to Blake again, hurt her again, maybe even kill her after what happened. And he was going after Yang now. And he was hoping to get information out of  _ her _ , out of Ilia to get to them.

_ No _ ,  _ she would never do that. _

“Like hell I would,” Ilia manages to sputter, and she feels Adam tighten his grip around her throat.

“Yeah, I had a feeling you’d say something like that.”

And before Ilia can say or do anything, Adam raises her off the ground by the throat, holding her for a few seconds. She hangs onto his wrists, struggling, but then he easily throws her down against the dining table. There’s something in her back that pops when she hits one of the legs of the table. She feels a wetness on the back of her head, and she feels dizzy all of a sudden, light headed.

Everything was spinning.

Ilia doesn’t have any time to register anything before she feels a slap across her cheek. The pain is immediate, a sting hitting her entire cheek all at once. Her head recoils, but Adam’s hand grips her jaw, forcing her to look at him.

Slowly opening her eyes, she sees Adam bent down, crouched over her legs, grinning again. She can’t look away. But she moans, when she feels her hair on top of her head being pulled upwards, and she takes a hold of his wrists, gritting her teeth.

“Where does Blake live?” He hisses, pulling harder.

“Go back to prison,” Ilia spits.

Adam grins. “Prison was great actually, thanks for asking. Made a few connections, got some new buddies. You know, there’s a lot of faunus in prison that understand what I mean. Our brothers and sisters are in prison because of  _ humanity. _ Did you forget that?”

“Destroying humanity  _ isn’t  _ the answer!”

“The faunus aren’t the ones causing the destruction, that’s humanity. If we have to get rid of them, then so be it.” He tightens his grip a little more, and she can’t help but release another moan.

“Humanity and faunus are part of the same equation,” Ilia reasons, her eyes becoming glassy. “You can’t just take them out, it would make things worse for everyone, both faunus and humanity.”

“They are at the  _ bottom _ of the pyramid. I’m going to make them sit, beg, and wither at our feet. But first, I gotta deal with Blake. Now, I’m out of prison  _ early,  _ and I’d like to find Blake to surprise her.”

“You’re not going to see her,” she grits out, glaring.

“Oh, but I am, Ilia. I’m dying to see what her reaction will be.”

“She has a protective order against you, Adam. You can’t get anywhere near her otherwise you’d just screw yourself over.”

Adam leans close to her, inches away from her face. Ilia wants to back away, but she’s pinned against the table, she can’t do anything.

“ _ Nothing _ will ever separate Blake and I. She’s  _ mine. _ ”

“She was never  _ yours _ in the first place _. _ ”

The response riles Adam up even more because he lets out this hysterical laugh and his left eye looks even more sinister than before.

He looks crazy, he looks  _ insane _ .

Ilia almost wants to laugh at this, at  _ him.  _ Is she supposed to be  _ scared _ ?

There wasn’t anything that scared her anymore, not really. Well, spiders still freaked her out sometimes, and storm drains. Ilia’s been on her own since she’s been five, ever since her parents were killed. She’s seen terrors of the world, she’s seen  _ him _ , before. He may inflict the most gruesome pain in any possible way, but Adam never scared her.

Adam is a  _ monster _ , but  _ everyone’s  _ a monster in their own way.

“Oh, Ilia,” he mumbles, straightening his legs. Clicking his tongue, his grip on her hair tightens, and Ilia lets out a strangled cry, and within moments, Adam’s dragging her by her hair across the floor. She bites down on her tongue, holding in her screams. Though that doesn’t stop her tears from falling from her eyes. “Ilia, Ilia, Ilia,” he sighs. “You’re making the wrong choice here. I just need you to tell me where Blake lives, that’s all I’m asking for.”

The next thing that happens is Adam slamming her head against the wall. He does it once, twice, three times before his hand lets go of her hair, letting her body go completely limp.

She can taste a mixture of blood and salt in her mouth, she can smell the blood in her nose, she can feel it everywhere on her body. God, everything was pounding and excruciatingly hurting, she was in so much pain. Everything was spinning, everything just  _ hurt _ so much.

Where was her phone? She needed to calm someone, anyone.

Please, someone.

Could anyone hear her downstairs? The shop probably wasn’t closed yet. What time was it?

“Cooperate with me, Ilia. That’s all you need to do. Give me the information I’m wanting, and I won’t kill you,” he says, as if it was that simple.

He just admitted that he planned on killing her.  _ Killing  _ her.

But Ilia’s head is throbbing so badly that she doesn’t even register his words.

“Adam, please,” she breathes out, it’s taking so much energy to lift her chest to breathe. “Please stop hurting me.” Feeling her head fall to the side, she can slowly feel herself losing consciousness.

“Hey now, don’t fall asleep on me. You’re gonna keep me waiting again, and I’m pretty maxed out on my patience.”

Adam slaps her again across the other cheek. Only this time, Ilia doesn’t feel the pain, but she knows the feeling’s there. There’s a shock sent through her entire body and to her head, but it lasts for a couple of seconds.

“Come on Ilia, where does Blake live?”

She doesn’t respond, letting her head hang low. Her face is swollen and she can’t breathe.

_ God,  _ is this what Blake felt, Ilia thought. No, this was nothing compared to that. Adam nearly beat Blake to  _ death _ , nearly destroying her ribs and lungs.

There’s a low growl from Adam and she can hear the frustration in it. Another slap across her face, and she’s nearly knocked over until Adam keeps her sitting up. “I really don’t want to be doing this all night, but I will if I have to. One more time, where does Blake live?” he asks, his voice gruff.

When she doesn’t answer, she hears him roughly mumble, “You’re fucking asking for it now.”

Slowly opening her eyes, Ilia sees herself drooling, her saliva mixed with blood oozing out and dripping onto her legs. But she can’t find the willpower to wipe her mouth -- she doesn’t want to move at all. She hears him shuffle around her apartment, but she doesn’t register for how long.

Seconds feel like minutes to her, and minutes feel hours. How much time really passed?

Ilia’s eyes are about to shut when Adam kicks her leg, barely jolting her awake. But when a  _ thud _ hits the floor right next to her hand, Ilia feels her eyes widen.

It’s one of her kitchen knives sticking straight up from being dropped onto the wooden floor.

Laughing, Adam bends down and picks the knife up, leaving an actual hole in her wooden floor. Ilia’s eyes are still trained on where the puncture mark is, seeing how deep into the floor the knife went. She watches him point the knife at her, putting it under her chin to force her to look at him.

He has an apple in his hand, grinning as he takes a bite. “I can give you some pretty nasty scars on your body, Ilia. So, for every question I ask and you don’t give me an answer, that’s going to be a scar. You’re smart, I know you are, so just make the goddamn right decision.”

That meant -- ‘if I don’t like the answer you give me, that’s going to be a scar.’

Swallowing, she feels her heart racing when he pushes the knife a little further into her neck, forcing a little prick of blood to spill.

If Ilia knew one thing about Adam, it was that he was a man of his  _ word _ . He would say something, he  _ meant  _ it.

“Where does Blake live?”

She slowly shuts her eyes, tears falling down her cheeks. She doesn’t feel the throbbing pain in her head anymore, all Ilia feels is the pain of her heart breaking.

_ I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. _

“I don’t know.”

The words come out of her before she even realizes what she says. She couldn’t do it, she just couldn’t. Not even a second later, Ilia feels a sharp pain shooting up her right arm. Adam slaps his hand against her mouth when a scream escapes her throat, and she feels hot burning blood running down her arm.

“You’re making this worse for yourself, Ilia. Give me an answer, that’s all you have to do. Who is the blonde she’s been with? You’re going to get a matching scar on your thigh if you don’t answer me.”

A brief thought of fighting back just barely crossed Ilia’s mind. It’d be useless, she’d just end up hurting herself even more. Adam’s a  _ beast _ , standing at 6’5, completely built, and he was holding a knife at her.

_ Her _ , Ilia, who had a deep wound on her arm, and her head was immensely throbbing -- she probably had a concussion. Her back felt off, there was a pop she had heard earlier from she was thrown against the table. There was nothing she could do.

When Ilia coughs, there’s punctures inside her throat and she can’t feel any air in her lungs. She can barely squeeze her right hand, watching as blood slowly pours down her fingertips, onto her legs and the floor. “Her name’s Yang,” Ilia croaks, her voice raspy and thick.

_ I’m sorry, Blake. I’m so sorry Yang. Oh my god I’m so sorry. _

“Yang,” Adam mutters, and Ilia doesn’t have the courage to look at him. “Where does Yang live?”

Ilia almost feels her heart stop beating right then and there because she  _ doesn’t  _ know where Yang lives. She knew it was somewhere relatively close to the university, but that could literally be anywhere.

She had no idea.

That was an answer Adam wouldn’t take, whether she knew it or not.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles, mentally and desperately trying to physically prepare herself. 

She hears a heavy sigh from Adam, and for a moment, she thinks that he won’t stab her again. “ _ Damnit _ ,” he hisses, and Ilia feels her eyes widen when he runs the knife against her right thigh. “Wrong answer.”

She screams, her back arching at the pain. Her entire body was writhing in pure agony, the stinging sensation was shooting everywhere. “Fuck, I don’t know, I fucking swear. I would tell you if I did,” she cries out, gripping her thigh. Gritting her teeth, she inhales a sharp breath, her eyes glancing at Adam who’s spinning the knife, amusingly.

“What’s her significance to Blake?”

It takes a moment for Ilia to even breathe. Her right arm was beginning to go numb, or maybe she was just losing the feeling in it. “They’re.. they’re together,” Ilia bites her lip the second the words leave her mouth. 

“What?” He says in disbelief. “How long?”

“They’ve been together for two months.” She remembered Blake working that day because Yang had walked into the cafe on their two month with flowers in her hand, that had only been a couple days ago.

Adam grins at her. “I bet that was hard for you, huh? Seeing the woman you’re so in love with be with someone else right in front of your eyes.”

Ilia clenches her jaw, looking away. The reaction only gets him to laugh at her, and she can feel her heart breaking all over again. No, she wasn’t going to go down this road again, she was for once, finally out of the hole, she couldn’t do it again.

“So, where does Blake live, Ilia?”

There it is, that fucking queston again.

But  _ fuck _ , she wasn’t going to give that up.

She couldn’t _. _

Adam would attack Blake whenever -- he’s already in the city though. 

But he’s  _ here _ , already. In Ilia’s apartment, which was about fifteen minutes away from Blake’s apartment. There was no stopping him, he’d find her no matter what, he wouldn’t stop until he did. But Ilia could slow him down by not telling him where Blake lived though. He’d hurt her again though, he’d hurt  _ Ilia. _

Another cut, another slap, another way of him hurting her.

Should she do it?

Before she could think again, Ilia felt the knife rip open her right forearm, cutting deeper than the one on her bicep. Gasping, she dragged her nails against the floor, her gut clenching.

“Silence isn’t an answer, Ilia.”

She glances at him through her tears, her breaths staggered. “I’m not telling you where she lives, Adam,” she says. “You’re not going to get to her.”

“I don’t really think you can say that to me, considering the condition you’re in right now, Ilia,” Adam says, taking a bite of the apple. His eyes slowly travel up and down her body, his grin devilishly widening.

He scoots a little closer to her, using the tip of the knife to raise the edge of her shirt up. Her stomach’s exposed. Ilia tightens her gut -- she felt like she was going to throw up any second. It was too overwhelming, everything was happening too quickly for her to keep up with.

“Fuck you, Adam.”

Laughing, Adam presses the knife into her stomach, not breaking or piercing through her skin, but a little too close for comfort. Ilia bites down on her tongue to hold in a hiss. 

“Tell me, do you think this.. Yang.. this human.. you think she’s important to Blake?”

“What do you think?” Ilia snaps back, gritting her teeth. In all seriousness, Ilia was badly wounded. Here she was, sitting on the floor in her apartment, she was in writhing pain, her skin felt like it was on fire, her head was pounding, her face was swollen. She was sitting in a small pool of her own blood.

So, it wasn’t exactly ideal for her to be snarky with him, but then again, Adam didn’t quite scare her.

Grinning, Adam shrugs his shoulders. “Two months, you say? I’d say Blake would consider her important.” Abruptly standing, he turns away, laughing. “Yang.. blonde. She doesn’t have a protection order against me. I bet I could get close to her.”

Ilia’s eyes immediately widen, terror shooting through her. She can feel a change in her hair and spots. “Adam, no! Please, don’t!”

“It’s the perfect way to surprise her. Through Yang.”

“Don’t hurt them, please. Adam!” She tries to move, wincing when she can’t. Her limbs feel numb and her body’s completely exhausted.

“I’ll be doing more than just hurting them. Give me some credit, Ilia.” Adam turns around so quick, Ilia can’t react, watching as he slams the apple against her head. She hears a crack, not sure whether it was her skull or the apple.

Shocked and losing consciousness, her head slowly drops. Her body goes limp, and Ilia falls into a limbo of blackness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, you guys! IM SORRY!
> 
> There was just absolutely so much emotion in this chapter, it was a rollercoaster for me, literally slapped my face left and right. A literal wet fish.
> 
> After multiple chapters of Yang unintentionally hurting my bby Blake, the truth is finally out! Now - I'm sorry to anyone who's ever broken their ribs and the way I wrote it is completely off - I'm trying. But, yes, the truth is out. I think a talk between all four of them was important - it was much needed to create a space between them. It brings Blake and Yang closer, and also bringing all of them closer. And, the whiterose conversation was much needed as well, I needed that interaction so I could breathe.
> 
> Anywaayys, LETS TALK ABOUT ILIA because *wipes brow* that had me sweating! I'm sorry!! I had to! It hurt for me too, I have such a soft spot for Ilia, even though she's portrayed really horribly in some fics. I can't believe I actually wrote that - completely obliterated her, omg I feel so bad!! 
> 
> Thank you guys for reading, I hope I didn't scare you guys away. Hope you guys enjoyed it, despite the intensity.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She reaches up to move a strand of hair in front of Blake’s eyes, carefully putting it behind her ear, her fingertips brushing against her cheek. Blake’s breath is caught in her throat, paralyzed, vanishing. There’s a comfortable silence between them, an understanding, a conversation almost. A universe being created by them, born into existence. Their own lives, together as one, were being built right then and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: explicit - that's all I'm going to say.

Throughout Blake’s life, she’s encountered traumatic experiences, all completely different, but they were scarring nonetheless.

There’s the multiple incidents where Adam attacked innocent human civilians, even going as far as shooting at them. Or when he abused her all throughout highschool, claiming her, possessing her. And of course, when he assaulted her a couple years ago.

But  _ this. _

_ This _ was incomparable, unalike to anything Blake’s ever experienced, yet.

Blake can feel her eyes contracting, widening, pulsing, as if her soul was slowly bleeding out of them. She can’t tear her gaze away -- can’t feel the tug at her hands, can’t feel the wetness from the tears streaming down her face.

The sight of it burned through her eyes, branding itself onto Blake’s brain, forcing itself into her memory. To stay forever, to be remembered. To haunt her in her dreams, to create nightmares.

Ilia’s leaned up against the wall, thick dried blood painted on the sides of her head and the wall, black spots littering all over her body, deep incisions marked up and down her limbs. There was a knife lying beside her thigh, the tip of it cloaked in rusted blood.

She didn’t realize she was having a panic attack until Yang says, “Blake, breathe, I need you to breathe with me.”

Her lungs are collapsing and expanding all too quickly for her body to process, waves crashing against the coastline, drowning, bruising.

“Try to take a deep breath.”

‘ _ I can’t _ ,’ is what Blake wants to cry out. ‘ _ I can’t, it’s like Adam’s here, laughing in front of me. It’s like he’s actually here. _ ’

But this wasn’t Adam, it couldn’t have been. He was still in prison, right?

This was someone else.

She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t bring herself to physically or mentally do it. It was as if a connection had been severed from her brain, stopping the processing of signals to her respiratory system -- nothing was working in her body.

Screw being slammed by a train, Blake felt as if she was tied down to the tracks, held down by her own weight, watching and feeling the train continuously run over her body. Blake could feel the snap, a chaotic break in her body, her heart completely crushed, aching.

This was terrifying, a nightmare she thought she’d overcome directly hitting her in the face, becoming her reality.

“Blake,” Yang murmurs softly, her voice sounds too far away, disappearing easily.

Adam was  _ right _ , she thought, her heart shattering again.

It was like glass breaking, being crushed by the weight of the world. And she couldn’t pick the pieces up, terrified she’d cut her fingers, terrified to hold the pieces.

The world; rampaging fires, bright flames setting the world on fire, winds howling and blowing sparks in the air, flying all around. Everything Blake looked at, touched, felt the wrath of the destruction she carried.

Adam was right.

“Baby, I need you to breathe,” Yang begs. Blake can feel the burn of Yang’s fingertips rubs against her arms, touch almost makes her skin raw. “Blake,” she mumbles, her hands cupping Blake’s face, so gentle. Blake nearly lets out a sob from both the pain and comfort her hand’s give her, forcing Blake to look at her, but she can’t tear her eyes away from Ilia, never daring to leave her. “Blake, look at me, please, just  _ look  _ at me.”

There’s pure desperation in Yang’s voice, strained and vehement.

Blake gives in, slow to meet Yang’s eyes. They’re so close to one another that Blake can see a few specks in her eyes carefully flicker red, dancing, glowing. How her eyes almost, just  _ almost _ , resemble the color of blood.

It’s all she can focus on now -- her brain has gone from thinking of nothing, to nearly everything all at once, she’s going downhill and the brakes are broken.

It’s all Blake can see;  _ blood _ .

Her eyes widen, the burning sensation of tears pouring out of her. Yang gently wipes at them with her thumb, the other hand reaching to the nape of her neck, pulling them closer. 

“Try to listen to my voice, try to breathe,” Yang began, leaning their foreheads against each other. It only takes a moment before Blake nearly melts against Yang, her eyes closing, the effect immediate. They open up to one another, as if saying  _ come into my body, my heart, my soul. It’s all yours, I’m all yours. _

Blake matches her breathing to Yang’s within a couple seconds, a collective inhale and smoothe exhale. “Tell me about the law class you’re taking with Weiss this semester,” Yang asks, breathlessly.

She almost laughs at the unexpected question, but instead just wets her lips, tasting salt and peppermint. “We’re taking two classes -- critical race theory and flash points in LGBTQ litigation.” Weiss wanted to take flash points while Blake wanted to take theory, but they couldn’t agree on which one to take, so they decided to take both together.

Because, two is always better than one, right?

“Keep telling me about it.”

“They’re both taught on Tuesday’s and Thursday’s. Theory starts at eight in the morning, then flash points is right after it.”

“Sounds nice. I’m going to let you go now, okay? I need to check Ilia’s pulse, just stay right here. Who’s teaching critical race theory?”

And before Blake can even respond, Yang’s touch and warmth leaves her, abandoning her skin to be wisped away by the cold air in the apartment. She feels as if her body’s being forced under a glacier, frozen ice filling her lungs, her eyes blurring.

“Blake?”

Blinking, she watches Yang reach down to Ilia, tilting her head to feel at her neck. Lost in thought, incapable of producing sentences, Blake’s mind lands on one thing -- she quickly scrambles for her scroll in her back pocket, dialing a number -- she should’ve called the second they got there --  _ fuck _ .

They pick up on the second ring.

“Hi -- uh, I need emergency services please, my friend’s injured. She’s cut up, bruised, and she’s.. she’s sitting in a pool of blood -- her blood -- no, it’s not fresh, it looks dried. No, I don’t know how long she’s been in this condition, she’s unconscious and unresponsive. Please, please -- I’m on Grimm and Park, above The Baking Room, third floor. Plea --”

Blake takes in the sight of Ilia once again, holding her breath.

A mixture of a “Miss,” from the caller and “Blake” from Yang, and whatever more she has to say, disappears, dissolving, muffled as if underwater along with everything else when Blake’s golden eyes slowly, so  _ slowly _ , settle on the wilted red rose that’s lying in Ilia’s hand, carefully nestled and tucked.

It was as if there wasn’t anything left in the universe anymore -- not frozen, but purely that nothing existed anymore, completely erased from existence. All there was, was the sight of a beautifully withered rose, rotting until the end of time, waiting for the last petal to fall. Only it never will.

A poisonous kiss, meticulously wrapped in thorns, waiting to be picked, and to paralyze a soul and heart with death.

She can hear his voice ringing in her ears, feel his breath against her skin, see him as if he was standing directly in front of her, dangerously smiling at her.

He was  _ here _ , out of prison,  _ here  _ in the city.

In Beacon.

Adam found her again.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


The floor was all too quiet, possibly borderline eerily too quiet for Blake. Maybe it was because it’s a Thursday night, and still winter break, but it was still, there was a silence that sat in the air, listening, watching. Or maybe it was the scene of being in a medical building again, sitting in these hallways that just brought memories back.

But all Blake could hear were her thoughts, they were loud, screaming inside her head, almost wanting to burst out. She’s sitting on a hallway bench, her eyes staring down at the floor, unable to look at anyone, she can’t.

There’s the tapping of Yang’s boots as she’s pacing up and down the hallway, Blake doesn’t want to tell her to stop. Ruby and Weiss had arrived a little while ago -- Weiss went directly into the room to speak to a medical officer, she didn’t have the authority, but she had the attitude.

Blake could feel questions painfully sitting on the tip of Ruby’s tongue, her nervous stares lingering on both her and Yang. Though, it surprisingly wasn’t nerve wracking nor did it add to the monstrous pile of anxiety lurching inside her stomach.

Ruby, similar to her older sister, carried a sense of affirmation, though unlike Yang, Ruby carried it in a way like waves, raindrops, how water smoothly coursed against skin.

You sat on the edge of the beach, the outline of the shore stitched with a silver lining, the sound of calm waves brushing against the sand, cool but warm water colliding against your ankles. There was a powerful embrace, an ambience from the soul of the sea, a conversation with the rise and fall of the ocean, carrying a rhythmic dynamic. It lets you breathe, opening you up to be swept away.

The three of them nearly jump when the door abruptly opens, Weiss and the medical officer stepping out. She thanks her, and the officer makes a small gesture to the other three, then exits down the hall, heels clicking, filling the silence between all of them. 

Everyone’s holding their breath.

Weiss gulps, careful to not meet any of their eyes for long, her expression stoic and stern. “We have clearance from the officers now, we can go in and see her,” she says thinly, her lips pursed.

Blake’s the first to head towards the room, she doesn’t see who follows her, but expects Yang to be close behind. “What’d she say?” It’s the question they’re all thinking.

“She’s in a stable condition now, but she did lose quite a bit of blood. There were three deep cuts, two on her right arm, one on her upper right thigh -- they all needed stitches. She has a minor fracture in her lower vertebral, not severe, but it’s still a fracture.”

Once shuffling in, there’s a soft click on the door shutting, their gazes all center on one part of the room. Blake grips onto her the strap of her purse, her ears flattening. Ilia’s cleaned up, there’s no more blood on her, but rather she’s wrapped in bandages. She’s sitting in some sort of cast, to support her back.

“Holy shit,” Yang breathes out while Ruby gasps.

“She woke up briefly in the emergency car, but only briefly. Then another right before they injected her with anesthesia, but she wasn’t exactly responsive.”

Blake grits her teeth, her stomach completely dropping -- the nausea of throwing up easily coming to her awareness. She has to turn away, glue her eyes to something else,  _ anything _ . She can’t close her eyes, otherwise all she’ll see is the blue hued bruises marked all over Ilia’s skin, stitches underneath red stained white bandages that are wrapped around her arms and head.

She can’t even look at Ilia.

She can’t be here, in this room, but she has to.

“They say she’s severely concussed from the looks of her brain scan. And the fact that she’s only woken up a couple times, only to pass out within seconds afterwards, they don’t know the full extent of the concussion.” Weiss whispers, eyes diverging down to the floor, afraid. Afraid of what exactly, Blake doesn’t know.

“Adam did this to her?” Ruby asks tentatively, fumbling at the drawstrings of her coat.

“He did so much damage to her,” Blake quietly cries out.

“I can’t even imagine why he would do this to Ilia, I never realized they weren’t on good terms. Was there unresolved tension between the two?”

Blake shakes her head in response. “No, but --” she starts, her voice trembling. Yang stabilizes her, holding her shoulders, steading her arm -- it’s the balance Blake needs, that she’s desperately clinging onto for support. “This is because Adam wants to send me some sort of a message.”

“But why?”

“Because he’s completely insane and delusional. He should be in a mental institution.” Weiss says dryly, disgusted.

“And this message.. it’s saying what exactly? It’s him telling you that he’s coming for you? How’s that even possible, he’s still in prison, serving his sentence. You said he used to be a part of the White Fang, maybe he got someone to do this for him.”

“He left me a rose, a wilted rose. Adam’s  _ here _ , Yang.” It’s not a snap, but there’s a clear bite to her tone. She turns to face her, upset. 

“But --”

“ _ Yang _ .”

The doubt almost makes Blake recoil her head back, shell shocked -- taken by surprise that this is even an argument between them. She can see redness seeping into Yang’s eyes, lilac slow to turn red. Blake’s own eyes contract, her black pupils turning into slits, flaring, holding her ground. If Blake had fangs, they’d be bared, threatening. Both of them refuse to look away.

They’re not angry or upset at each other, well maybe they are, part of Blake at least. 

How dare she? Blake thought. 

Weiss, recognizing the increasing tension in the room, steps in to remove the bullet to let the wound breathe, to let the healing process start, if it even can. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Adam Taurus was released from prison on January 11th. I did everyone a favor by asking Winter, and she confirmed it.” Weiss says, her voice leveled.

There it was, the truth, lying in front of everyone. It laid exposed, bare and completely open, dangerously mocking them -- especially to Blake, it sounded like there was a laugh ghosting it. 

Yang’s the one to tear her eyes away, cursing mildly under her breath. She retreats to a chair seated beside the window, her gaze settling on Ilia.

Whatever Weiss has to say, it goes in one ear and easily out the other as Blake looks at Yang, her expression softening. She knew that Yang meant no harm, knew that Blake was on the wrong end. It just hurt to hear it. There was incandescent light from the street that was hitting Yang’s face, radiating off her skin.

She looks beautiful, Blake thought in awe. The hurt and upset in her stomach almost dissipating

Weiss roughly cleared her throat. “Your protection order against him is for your entire life, he can’t touch you. He can’t be near you, not in the same building, not on campus, nowhere near BB’s, nothing.”

“But he’s so close now, he’s right  _ here _ , here in Beacon. He’s going to be watching me from the shadows, haunting me.”

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

“ _ I’m _ not going to let anything happen to you. He’ll have to fucking beat my last dying breath out of me to get to you,  _ nothing _ is going to happen to you, not while I’m with you.” Yang says aggressively, her eyes still on Ilia, but her expression’s soft yet empty. For a moment, Blake almost imagined if it were her in the bed rather than Ilia, wondering what Yang would look like then.

“Yang,” Ruby warns, frowning, not pleased with her. Blake had to agree with the reaction, she didn’t like that either.

“What?” She snaps, now glaring at them, but it only takes a second for her to immediately recognize how exasperated she sounds. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean --”

“We’re all worried for Blake, but let's try to focus on Ilia for now,” Weiss reasons, shifting her weight. She shuffles closer to Ruby, angling herself to stand barely in front of her.

Blake realizes how unsettling this must be for Weiss -- one, Adam was back in their lives again, after Winter spent a large portion of her time to send him to a prison on another continent -- two, Weiss and Ilia weren’t exactly on the best of terms, but it was apparent that Weiss cared for her.

“Adam attacked Ilia, and as far as I’m aware, it was to send a message to me. What if he attacks one of you?”

“Then it’ll be something we’ll handle in the future. Ilia was attacked, Blake. We need to be here for her, you more than anyone.”

“We can’t live in fear, even if he is here. He doesn’t deserve to control our lives, your life especially.”

It was as if they were all ganging up on her, cornering her back against the wall. She had nowhere to go, only into their embrace, their arms, their support, it was the only way forward.

Blake didn’t make it this far, to only make it this far -- no, she was going to go further, she was going to  _ live _ again.

“They’re right, Blake. Don’t give him the ability to control your life, not after everything he put you through.” Yang says, like it’s the final hit against the wall, the crack breaking through and falling down.

“It’s not this simple,” she argues, knowing it’s the wrong thing to say. There’s no use in it, the conversation’s finished.

“It is though,” Yang responds, her voice softer than ever.

Their eyes meet, and her expression is even softer than her voice. Blake can see into her soul opening up to her, letting her in, welcoming her home after what seems like an eternity of being away. Of being lost.  _ Come back to me, come here where you’re the safest, let me fight your demons, let me hold them all. _

The next Blake realizes are Yang’s arms gently wrapping around her shoulders, the scent of sandalwood soothing her, and a wisp of blonde hair tickling against her eyelashes. Blake sighs, surrendering, and leans into Yang’s chest.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to any of you, it’s already happened to Ilia,” she mumbles into the crook of Yang’s neck.

A small laugh bounces off Yang, echoing against Blake’s body. It makes her shiver. “We’ll be fine.”

“We have support from each other.”

“That’s right, we’re a family. The four of us.”

“And Ilia’s alive, Blake. She’s going to make it, just like you,” Weiss adds.

She’s right -- they’re right. It took a while -- it’s still a process for Blake, and she had support from Weiss after the accident, and she has more support now. And Ilia was going to get through all of this, with their support.

They both lost a war with their hands tied behind their back, but they both made it out alive, after everything.

They were both survivors.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Blake’s eyes absently stare down at the hussle in the street, the morning rush of cars and people filling the city, car horns and faint hollers echoing throughout. Classes start on Monday, so that meant that things were starting to pick up. Unfortunately. Her ear flicks when there’s a small pop behind her, it’s Ilia eating away at her breakfast.

“He was sitting in my apartment, waiting for me. He knew where I lived -- knows where I fucking live. Of course he does, he used to be the leader of the White Fang, he has connections everywhere,” Ilia says, putting a spoonful of applesauce, the dessert of her meal.

“But he lost those connections after the bombing, no one would ever follow him again. He betrayed the faunus, he lost their loyalty,” Blake reasons, the memory flashing in her head.

Ilia quietly sips at her apple juice, looking away.

She imagines the memory popping into Ilia’s head as well. It had been a painful day, a lot of people had fallen, and scarily, more faunus than humans. Adam thanked them for their sacrifice, said his actions were justified, no one agreed with him.

Suddenly, the room felt colder and all too big for Blake, missing the warmth and comfort of her girlfriend. Yang had run off to buy some bagels, giving Blake some private time with Ilia -- not that Yang wasn’t welcome to listen in and add to the conversation, it was just that she had a bit of a temper when it came to talking about Adam. Part of her wished she stayed with her though.

“Still, he has people inside the White Fang. And I think I remember him talking about meeting some people in prison, that’s even more connections. Who knows, even if you do have an order against him, he might have people watching your every move.”

“Ilia  _ stop _ , stop please. Just.. give me a second,” Blake frantically murmurs, clutching at her chest. She could feel the emptiness hollowing out her chest, the cracks in her ribs growing and creaking. As if a nonexistent weight was overbearing her lungs, pulling at her heart, she could hear the fractures in her ribs breaking again.

Ilia must’ve realized her anxiety because she snaps Blake out of her pain, calling her name. Blake meets her eyes, and Ilia looks at her, defeated, her expression grim. Blake’s ears cower against her hair, panicked.

“You don’t have time to think about anything of this,” Ilia whispers angrily. She leans her head back against the pillow after dropping the applesauce cup and spoon, a quiet plastic clatter ringing in the room. Blake can see the speckles on Ilia’s skin rapidly turn red, kissed by strawberries, kissed by blood.

She’s terrified, Blake saw.

So am I, Blake thought.

“He’s always going to be one step ahead of you, no matter what you do. When you least expect him, where you think you’re the safest, he’ll be there, ready.”

“I  _ know _ ,” she hisses, impatient, restless. Of course she knew all of this already -- she  _ knows _ Adam,  _ knows _ exactly what he’s capable of, and what he'll do to her. It’s all she’s been thinking about for the past couple of days.

Ilia sighs, tired, exhausted. Blake can see it on her face, in her eyes, hear her heartbeat slowing from the monitor. Their eyes meet again, and Blake wants to fall and drop to the floor, to her knees then and there, and cry. Let her soul dissipate, let the universe devour her. But Ilia doesn’t look away, and neither does she, Blake holds on for dear life, clinging for support.

“Adam’s coming for you, Blake. He’s going to find you, and something’s going to happen to you.” Ilia softly says, tearing her eyes away. Her gaze directs towards the window -- it’s snowing outside.

It’s a sudden slap to the face, almost harder than Adam’s ever slapped her.  _ Almost _ .

The words stung, nearly ripping Blake’s heart into pieces, stabbing it until all there was left were holes. Just hearing the words made her entire body ache.

But it was the truth, and she had to face it, had to accept it.

“I’m sorry, Ilia. That he hurt you because of me. I’m so sorry,” Blake shakily confesses, the guilt washing over her.

“No, don’t be.”

“How can you say that --”

“No matter what you think, you aren’t the reason why Adam did what he did to me, don’t think about it. I made my choice and I’ll do it again -- not telling him about you was my decision, I couldn’t see you hurt like before, you shouldn’t have to go through something like that ever again. He’s ruthless and cruel, but I’m not scared of him.”

“Why?” Is all she can manage to say, unsure she’s even capable of speaking. Stars and planets were collapsing, creating, convulsing all at once inside Blake’s chest.

Ilia stares out the window, her breaths slowing, relaxing almost. “Because everybody’s a monster in their own way,” she answers, too soft, easily masking away the damage and pain. Blake vaguely wonders how much trauma Ilia’s experienced, how many times she’s been hurt.

“You think you’re a monster, Ilia?”

There’s a huff from her, it answers her question. Blake frowns, displeased.

“We all have our secrets, Blake.”

Blake watches as something slowly creeps into Ilia’s eyes, a distant memory -- a distant life that seems all too close. Parts of her life that don't exist anymore, that are nothing but a memory, a stamp in her brain that served no purpose.

Ilia opens her mouth, closing, parting her lips, in thought. “If I’m being completely honest with you, I don’t exactly remember much about that night, it’s mostly just a blur. All that’s coming to me, is that he kept wanting information about you, and I wouldn’t give him anything.”

“It’s okay, that doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me, though. In a way,” she chides, her lips curling downwards, eyebrows creased. “But I don’t know why.” Not a second later, the muscles in her face relax, and Blake can see the effects of her medicine hitting her.

She felt an achness grow in the depths of her heart for Ilia.

As if watching a fire cling onto its coals, it’s kindle, slowly dying from the intensity of the winds, the downpour of the thunderstorm, wanting to be stoked again. It wanted to burn viciously, rage out of its cage, but it couldn’t. 

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” Ilia says, blinking slowly. “Like I’m forgetting to tell you something important, but I don’t know what.” Blake can see her thoughts being thrown around, her eyes staring off into a distant space, a void filling the space.

A thought lingers in the back of Blake’s head, telling her that things are about to go downhill. She’s about to open her mouth to say something, but the soft vibration in her pocket takes the moment away.

It’s a text from Yang, telling her she’s on her way back and asking if they can head to the bookstore to grab their textbooks for the semester.

Blake replies back to her, quickly grabbing her coat and purse from the chair. Pulling her arm through her coat, there’s hesitation building up, and she decides to take the leap. She swiftly walks over to the side of Ilia’s bed, a small smile on her lips.

“Try to get some rest, Ilia. Hopefully I can see you after my shift tonight,” she says, placing a soft kiss on the top of her head.

“You’ll come back?” A pastel pink touches Ilia’s cheeks, her eyelids slowly dropping, a sigh falling off her lips. 

“I always do.”

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


There’s a howl from the wind that hits Blake’s windows, causing a shiver to roll down her neck and back. She blankly watches the snowflakes frantically drift onto her balcony, some falling too far inward and melting, others joining the snow pile on the edge. It’s late February, and Beacon’s been getting snow nearly every week since December, and it doesn’t look like it’ll be slowing down anytime soon.

Shame.

Blake’s sitting on her couch, wrapped in a multitude of layers, consisting of blankets, long sleeves, and sweatshirts. Her laptop’s sitting on her lap, a law case pulled up on the screen, reading that’s long overdue, as are many things in Blake’s life. She exactly wouldn’t say she’s overwhelmed, but she couldn’t lie that she had quite a few heavy things resting on her chest.

It’s nearly noon on a Thursday, and she couldn’t get herself out of the apartment to go to her two classes today. There was one at eight, the other at eleven -- both with Weiss; her theory and flash points, and both of them she skipped.

This was their last semester as undergrads, and they both wanted to enjoy it together. That’s what they said to each other last semester though, before anything happened.

Before Adam made a reappearance back into their lives.

Right when Simon and Garfunkel’s ‘If I Could,’

_ yes i would, if i could, i surely would _

finishes playing, Blake’s ears immediately flicker wearily and restless at a familiar sound. She knows it’s coming before it even happens from the echo of Weiss’ heels clicking in the hallway. But what follows after is an unsettling silence that lasts a couple of seconds, it makes Blake self conscious just a bit. A few more moments pass by before there’s a soft knock against her front door. Just a single knock though, the sound dull and useless, a piece of driftwood hitting against a rock, a thud with no purpose besides that.

“Are you really going to make me stand out here? It’s basically a blizzard out here!” Weiss calls out, annoyed. It’s muffled, but she can clearly hear it.

The corners of Blake’s mouth twitches, but she makes no sign of moving, content to stay where she is on the couch -- right to make her that choice because --

Not a second later, the door creaks open, followed by an abrupt slam. There’s shuffling, Blake imagines it’s Weiss taking her heels off at the door and brushing the snow off her shoulders. She hears a mumbled ‘ _ she’ll be grateful my ass, _ ’ as footsteps pitter patter down the hallway, and Blake amusingly smiles when Weiss walks into the living room. Unhappy, and glaring.

“I thought I locked the door,” she says, playfully frowning.

Weiss rolls her eyes, ignoring the jab and takes a seat on the couch beside her, tugging at the blanket to drape over her knees.  _ Moon River _ by Frank Ocean plays in the background, and Weiss gives her a long judgemental stare, bright ice blue eyes piercing directly through her. It’s moments like these where Blake isn’t so fond of being Weiss’ best friend.

“As I suspected, you  _ are _ listening to this awful depressing music and cowering yourself in a pile of blankets.”

“Am  _ not _ , I’m catching up on some reading -” Right when the sentence comes out, Blake immediately knew she made a mistake. 

Weiss feigns surprise. “I’m on a roll, two for two. Please, keep them coming.”

Catching up on reading implied that she hadn’t been sleeping much, at all, if any, which meant the implication was right.

Her ears flatten, almost stumbling back from the jab from Weiss herself. “That’s not fair, Weiss.”

Something in Weiss’ eyes flicker, a recognition, an opening unintentionally created by Blake. A lure set by Weiss, curious if she would take it. And she did.

“Exactly,  _ nothing _ about this entire situation is fair. Adam being released from prison three years early isn’t fair, Ilia being beaten to death isn’t fair, you having to go through this isn’t fair.” Her expression differs from her tone, rather than frustrated which Blake expected, Weiss looks exhausted, lost even.

How did I not notice it? How did I not notice Weiss in pain, hurt, abandoned? Blake thought, lips turning downwards, a bit disappointed in herself. She wonders if Weiss is disappointed in her also.

A heavy sigh escapes, weights falling onto the floor, thudding the ground. “And it’s not fair that I got shut out. We -”

“Promised, I know. We promised each other that we’d always be with each other no matter what, to stay at each other’s sides no matter what came barreling towards us. I know.”

“Okay. So if you know, would you mind explaining to me why this is happening between us. And explain to me why it’s only the beginning of March, and you’ve missed theory eight times, and flash points six. We have both of those classes together, Blake, I know exactly how many times you’ve skipped.”

Here it is, the conversation Blake’s been waiting for for weeks. The confrontation. It’s been building and building, a mound of dirt she’s been putting behind her from digging herself into a hole. The first day of March was tomorrow, they’ve only had a total of five weeks worth of classes, and they weren’t even close to the halfway mark of the semester.

“I suppose that’s a flaw in our relationship, and how close we are. But that’s what makes our relationship so defining, I think we can both agree on that. We’re in two classes together, and we work at the same place. Mind you, I know you haven’t been working much, but I still know when you work.”

Blake opens her mouth, closes, opens, closes, frowns.

She had been expecting it, but preparing herself for the conversation? That was a whole different story.

Weiss decides to say more, weeks worth of emotion built up inside her. “You can explain to me why you haven’t been answering my calls or texts.”

“I didn’t want you to worry about me, or have to take care of me. You did that the first time, I wanted to try to do it on my own.”

She can feel Weiss gazing at her, ice numbly melting against her skin, the space between them as if an open sea. Standing still, unmoving. Then there’s movement, Weiss leans down to her bag, shuffling before pulling out a handful of folders. She takes one, tosses it onto the coffee table, another, tosses harder, another, tosses it even harder, another, almost slamming it down.

They’re weeks worth of notes from days Blake had skipped. Articles and papers given out when she wasn’t there. And Weiss collected it all, did it all.

“Three for three.”

Blake clenches her jaw, holding her breath. “I didn’t -”

Weiss immediately cuts her off because there’s no room for discussion. Weiss came here with one mission, and one mission only, there wasn’t time for any bullshit.

“Correct, you didn’t think. All this time, you think you’re not going to make me worried by blatantly shutting me out of your life -- no, what you did was actually the complete opposite, no surprise. In a normal situation, I would give you your space, no argument. But  _ we’re _ not normal people, you and I.”

“We’re the best of friends.”

“Then why does it feel like we aren’t?”

It’s another chance to answer differently, an offer, a welcoming hand that’s been waiting for such a long time. Blake doesn’t hesitate to grab at it.

“Because being alone and suffering alone is better than seeing the people I love suffer  _ because _ of me.” It wasn’t much of an explanation, it really wasn’t one at all honestly.

For a second, Blake swears she saw Weiss widen her eyes, but the moment passes before she can register anything.

“I -- we can’t change how you feel inside your head, what you tell yourself. But we can let you know that you’re not alone in this, and you’re never going to be alone, no matter what. You can’t decide whether we suffer or not, we’re already suffering because we’re not a part of your life, and you’re not a part of ours. You can’t make that decision for us, Blake.”

Weiss’ hand reaches out to her, as if longing for something that she had lost, a moth fluttering, tirelessly searching for light. Blake doesn’t meet her halfway, but rather closes the space between them and grabs her hand. 

It’s saving her from drowning, pulling her out of the drowning waves of the open sea where Blake doesn’t have anything else to hang onto.

“We’re choosing this, don’t be angry at us and don’t be angry at yourself because we, ourselves, made this decision because you’re worth it. So worth it.”

The touch is so familiar, Blake didn’t realize just how badly she missed it, missed the intimacy she shared with Weiss. Their grip is tight, yet loose all at the same time, and somehow, it explains to Blake just how  _ real _ this is -- how real her feelings are, how loved she is.

“I’m sorry.”

Weiss shakes her head, scooting closer to her. “You have nothing to be sorry for, I promise. Just don’t shut me and everyone else out now, okay? Stop pushing us away, please.”

“Yeah, okay, okay.. I’ll work on it.”

“That’s all that matters, and no one’s expecting you to be on your feet 100% all of the time. I know you’re constantly telling yourself you have to be, but you don’t.”

“Thanks Weiss, thank you so much.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m glad we finally cleared the air between us about that because I’ve been dying to talk to you about Goodwitch since you’re the only one who understands.”

Blake can’t help but smile at that. “I’ve missed you too, you know. I know we saw each other a couple days ago, but I miss the comfort of being around you, talking to you, laughing with you.”

“Yes, yes, you’ve missed me. I understand.”

And just like that, everything that’s sitting in the room, weighing on Blake’s shoulders and Weiss’, it all simply disappears. How, she doesn’t know, but she can tell the difference.

So they decide to catch up, Weiss explains that she didn’t skip their flash points class, their professor along with Goodwitch, had asked her to go see how Blake was doing. It wasn’t just her friends that were worried, her professors too apparently.

“Ruby was the one who pushed me into coming over here actually. It just so happened to work out that I was asked to see you by the professors because I was already going to stop by later this evening.”

“I’m glad you did. How is Ruby doing? How are things going between the two of you?”

There’s a curve on her lips, in thought, reminiscing on memories of their relationship, a soft touch of pink on Weiss’ cheeks as if Ruby had just placed a kiss herself. “Wonderful, both her and our friendship. She’s been keeping herself occupied with her undergrad project, inviting me along with her sometimes.”

“I didn’t know you had an interest in mechanical engineering,” Blake says, amused.

“Ruby can.. she has a way with words, and sometimes it happens to  _ actually _ fascinate me, yes.”

“Interesting. I never took you to have a liking towards technological designs and robotic programming, but I have to say, it definitely suits your demeanor.”

Weiss rolls her eyes, sips at her thermos. “You’re one to talk, like you’re any different with Yang.”

“True, but truthfully, it’s kind of a turn on for me, now that I think about it. Yang gets intense and invested when she talks about her projects, I think it makes her  _ hot _ .” Blake says nonchalantly, dropping it casually.

Though it doesn’t faze Weiss, unsurprisingly, she’s been witnessing this behavior for months now. “Why did I even bother?” She mumbles to herself.

Another song fades off and a soft jazz song comes to play -- she’s been missing Sun as of late. There’s a gentle trumpet intro as Blake’s gaze falls onto the folders lying on her table. She had a lot of reading to do the next couple of days, late nights, but she’d try to not let it overwhelm her. Maybe she could read some of them while hanging out with Yang in her studio, maybe.

“So, have you decided what you’re doing this summer?”

The thought of the summer hasn’t crossed her mind, not since January. But the answer was simple. “No, I haven’t given it much thought,” she says, now thinking about it.

What was she to do?

At the end of last semester, Blake had three internships and one shadowing lined up for her after finishing undergrad, all she had to do this semester was figure out which one she wanted to do. If she even wanted to do them, that was the big bump Blake had to get over first.

Part of her almost wanted to say, I’ll think about it later, it’s something I can’t deal with right now. But then there wouldn’t ever be an appropriate time -- no time is better than now.

Now, present day.

Blake couldn’t think about the future, as much as she worked and tried to plan things out in her personal life, thinking too far ahead would just stress her out. It's always ended up badly for her.

But right now, and probably for a while, there was only one thing that Blake wanted, and that was to put Adam Taurus back into prison. There’s footage from a camera outside of The Baking Room that catches the exact time when Adam breaks into Ilia’s apartment, and when he leaves.

“I never thought that this semester would be such a rough one. And in the fall, I thought that freshman year was rough.”

“It was rough, then and now. The validation isn’t taken away from our freshman year, and it doesn’t mean that what we’re going through now isn’t just as difficult. Both times have their own version of challenges and torment.”

“Why is this acting like a block in my life?” It’s rhetorical, slipping out of her mouth, her lips dipping down.

“Because Adam was released from prison, and now he’s out to get you, for what exactly, you don’t know, but he is. It’s as if everything’s put on hold in your life until he’s found.” Weiss says without missing a beat.

A shiver runs down Blake’s spine, her ears flicker at the sound of wind outside. It almost sounds like a laugh more than a howl. “Thanks, Weiss,” she mumbles, rolling her lips in.

“Don’t mention it.”

A faint saxophone blares, the sound lightening, a dance barely touching the ground. The rhythm sounds off, yet fits perfectly to the instruments, the control lying in them. A few moments of the thrum playing passes by, and once the song ends, Blake decides to turn the music off.

“So on a lighter note, because that’s obviously what we need right now -- have you told Yang yet?” Blake’s brows furrow, not following. The corners of Weiss’ mouth slightly curl, blue eyes brightening and blinding. “That you love her?”

It slowly dawns on her, quite literally, the sun lifting up past the horizon and into the sky, light reaching every crack and shadow inside her.

She loves Yang.

And without a doubt, Blake knew that Yang felt the same. “No, not yet. But I don’t think I have to tell her,” Blake replies, a soft smile sitting on her lips.

She will though, soon.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


“I don’t want to lose you,” Blake gently says, nuzzling her nose further into the crook of Yang’s neck.

Yang came to Blake’s apartment about half an hour ago from her studio, and went off to take a shower. Blake was deprived of Yang’s presence, it’s been a couple of days since they’ve slept at the others.

She takes a whiff, smelling coconut for her own shampoo in Yang’s wet hair, part of her longing for the sandalwood lotion that’s embedded into Yang’s image that Blake has of her. Blake’s ears flutter, flatten when there’s a hot breath against them, warming them.

“I’m being serious, Yang. You mean too much to me for anything to happen to you.”

Yang lightly laughs, a thrum easily rumbling from Yang’s chest, a sound that makes perfect sense to Blake. She kisses Blake’s forehead, and Blake nearly sighs into Yang’s body even more. She wants to be closer.

“You’re not,” Yang reassures, fingers raking through her hair, fingernails scraping against her head. Blake hums, breathes. Yang’s other hand is running up and down the curve of her back, smoothly against her skin, creating a faint warmth between Blake’s thighs. “I’m always going to be with you.”

Another promise, another part of her soul delicately given to Blake.

Blake takes her words, holds them in her hands, her heart, and presses them back against Yang’s own soul, their energies, their life line colliding, mending into one.

“You mean that?” She murmurs. There’s no part of her that questions it, she’ll never doubt Yang, but sometimes, Blake can’t compete against her second nature of being terrified, of being paranoid.

“Yeah, baby, I mean it.”

“I don’t know what I’d do if he did something to you. Probably lose it, it’s the one thing I’m truly scared of.” That’s a lie, she’s actually scared of a lot of things.

There’s an airly chuckle from the back of Yang’s throat, not directed at her, maybe towards Adam. “You’re crazy ex-boyfriend isn’t going to scare me away. He’s going to have to kill me for you to lose me. Other than that, I’m not going anywhere.”

Blake immediately sits up on her elbow, the other hand wrapping around Yang’s neck to pull them closer, the touch light. Yang doesn’t stop trailing her fingers up and down her back, her other lands to sit on her waist, resting. She vaguely thinks about putting her hand on Yang’s neck, pinning her down, and climbing onto her face. 

“What?” Yang’s lips are parted, bright eyes staring up at her, confused, awed. Blake’s lip twitches, her tongue brushing against her teeth, pushing the thought off to the side.

“You can’t say shit like that, Yang.”

Her lips curl, a smirk turning into a wobbly grin. “Sure I can, it’s the truth. You know, since we promised not to lie to each other.”

Refusing to roll her eyes, Blake chews on her bottom lip. Their eyes meet, magnets meeting each other, colliding, attracted, meant to be. “Yang,” she says softly, her voice trailing.

Yang’s grin only grows, wider than a horizon, brighter than a rising sun, gentle than a blaze. She’s the sun, Blake thought. She truly is the sun itself, and Blake was being blinded by her beauty.

“You’re staring,” Blake teases, smiling. It’s infectious.

“I have a reason to, beautiful.”

She reaches up to move a strand of hair in front of Blake’s eyes, carefully putting it behind her ear, her fingertips brushing against her cheek. Blake’s breath is caught in her throat, paralyzed, vanishing. There’s a comfortable silence between them, an understanding, a conversation almost. A universe being created by them, born into existence. Their own lives, together as one, were being built right then and there.

“You’re looking at me like that, again.”

Yang smiles all too softly, as if knowing what she looks like, what she’s conveying to Blake. But she already knows -- it’s unspoken.

“Like how?”

A flicker of emotion flashes across Yang’s face, as if knowing what she’s thinking, as if thinking the exact same thing. It only takes a moment for Blake to decide that she’s done talking, done thinking -- she’s been thinking all night.

Right now, all she wants is to forget, forget about everything but  _ Yang _ .

She leans down, pressing her mouth against Yang’s, it’s messy, sloppy, her tongue immediately slipping into Yang’s mouth. The taste of kiwi and mint ghosting her lips. The intensity and filthiness is matched by Yang, she meets Blake in the middle, a laugh, a moan falling off her lips and into Blake’s mouth.

It makes her want Yang even more.

Somewhere in the back of her head, Blake registers the unreasonable amount of lust seeping through her veins, the distressing amount of desire to be  _ possessed _ to be completely taken. Bury me, bury me where I can’t breathe, where I no longer exist on this planet anymore.

But all she’s aware of right now is that she’s not close enough to Yang, nowhere near to fulfill the growing  _ need _ inside her.

Blake parts her lips to bite on Yang’s bottom lip, nipping, tugging. She ghosts her tongue over it, and Yang reaches up to hotly grab her lips. Too many layers, too little skin, not enough contact -- she feels confined, hitting the edge of the sky. Their tongues meet, fingers grabbing at the hem of Blake’s sweater and pulling it over her head. Their positions are switched when she’s thrown down against the bed, and Yang swings a leg over her hip, giving Blake a preview, a taste, a feel of the wet spot against her skin.

Oh my  _ god _ , Blake lets out a whimper, moaning into their kiss.

Yang pulls away, tossing her own shirt off the bed, letting her breasts fall and bounce, fingers ghosting over Blake’s hips, teasing, just barely touching her waistband. Blake wants her fingers to go lower, to touch her clit, to stretch her, to -

“Oh my fucking  _ god _ ,  _ fuck _ .”

There’s a dangerous laugh from Yang, a glimmer in her eyes that Blake’s starting to read -- a hunger, an ache. It’s a reflection of her own. Yang’s hand reaches to the back of her head, gripping and pulling at her hair, exposing her neck at just the right angle. Blake licks her lips in anticipation.

“Tell me what you want,” she says, low and raspy. She sounds just as affected as her, and Blake already forgets how to talk.

Yang openly kisses her neck, her tongue dragging against her skin, hot, wet, her mouth almost relentless. Blake’s fingers dig into her girlfriend’s shoulder, aching, screaming. She knows that she’ll see bruises and marks tomorrow morning, but she couldn’t care less about that right now. It takes her a moment to remember words, remember how to speak properly because Yang’s lying on top of her, lazily kissing and biting.

Warm hands spread Blake’s thighs, nails softly digging into her skin, and Yang’s fingers find the moist heat, teasing, ghosting over her wetness. There’s a satisfactory hum somewhere above her.

Blake feels as if she’s about to combust, waiting to be taken, to be devoured.

“I told you to tell me what you want, baby. Right now.” Yang whispers into her ear, the hotness, closeness of her, the demanding, it nearly drives Blake off the edge. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ fu - I want you to fuck me.”

She feels a grin against her skin, teeth scraping. “Oh?”

Very rarely did Blake mind Yang’s cheekiness that she carried -- some would describe it as Yang being arrogant. Right now, she was actually despising every single ounce of it but it was making her whimper even more all at the same time.

“Yes Yang,  _ please _ , I need you inside me.”

Without warning, Yang slips two fingers inside her, slowly and tormently easing into her, her thumb brushing against her clit and -

_ Holy shit _

“You like that, yeah?”

_ Fuck _ , did Yang really understand the obscurity of Blake’s obsession with dirty talk, or --

“Come on, I want to hear you beg for me.”

Blake throws her head back against the pillow, moving her hips,  _ anything _ to get movement. But Yang slowly pumps her, her fingers curling inside, barely pushing her over. The motion is too slow, too agonizing for her. Gripping the sheets, Blake furiously breathes, grinding down on Yang’s fingers for more traction, but Yang’s leg pins her down.

“ _ Yang _ , fucking fuck me,  _ damnit _ .”

It’s not enough, nowhere near enough to what she needs, she needs  _ more _ .

“God, you’re  _ so _ fucking wet for me.”

“Please.” It comes out as a whimper, a plea to save her, to destroy her.

Yang takes away her fingers, slides her tongue down her chest and latches onto her nipple. Blake looks up, nearly sobbing at the loss of contact, but Yang’s grabbing at her shorts, pushing her clothes off her hips, past her knees. One hand grabs at her ass, and there’s a low growl from her throat, leaving Blake shivering, trembling under her and when she hears a  _ pop _ from Yang’s mouth, two fingers sink back inside of her.

Blake moans, cries, her back arching against the bed, hands fisted into the sheets, heels digging into the mattress. Yang runs her tongue between her breasts, leaving wet trails down her chest, the pace of her fingers quickening. Another finger is added, stretching her, and Blake’s muscles all tense up, hips buckling to match the pace. It’s enough for Blake to feel herself building, for the feeling to make its way up from her toes, to sit in her stomach, waiting, threatening.

One of her hands shoots to Yang’s head, knotting her fingers in blonde hair as Yang’s tongue makes contact with her clit, moaning against the heat of her. Something’s growing inside Blake, a candle dripping hot wax onto her skin, flames bursting from her ribs, sunlight brightening her soul, her lungs tightening.

She’s close, so close.

There’s a low hum from Yang that echoes all throughout Blake, she can feel it on the tip of her tongue, pounding in her ears, feel it in her stomach. It doesn’t take long until Blake’s breathy moans echo in her room, and she’s grasping Yang’s head, the orgasm coming down -- an avalanche hastily making its way down the mountainside, roaring, quickening --  _ oh my god _ , Blake’s fingernails digs into Yang’s scalp, shamelessly grinding herself against Yang’s mouth.

It doesn’t stop Yang though, she keeps lapping her tongue in broad flattened strokes, lightly sucking on her until Blake has to whimper, desperately calling out her name to signal her enough.

“Mhmm, you’re  _ hot _ .”

Blake laughs, but doesn’t open her eyes, rather the back of her hand falls against her forehead, a lazy smile ever so slightly sitting on her lips. She had just been free falling, cheeks wind burned, adrenaline pumping, her limbs limp, her lips swollen red, standing on top of the world with everything underneath her fingertips.

Light kisses trail from the insides of the thigh, up her stomach, though they stop at her breasts -- then a slow dragging tongue flicks her nipple, a hand sliding up her hip to cup her other breast, gripping it. When Yang pushes down against her, hips achingly grinding down, Blake’s hand immediately grabs onto Yang’s wrist. She wraps her legs around Yang’s waist, pushing her onto her back, saying  _ enough, enough of me, you’ve already taken me down, now I’m taking you down with me _ .

Their positions have swapped, Blake has loosely pinned Yang’s hands above her head, and she’s straddling Yang, her wetness slickly rubbing against Yang’s stomach. Her lips part, gritting her teeth as she rubs against Yang at the  _ perfect _ angle.

She leans down to kiss Yang, hotly running her tongue against hers, salt, sweetness, sweat, and herself all filthily mixing together so well. “How’d I taste?”

“Fuck, you tasted so fucking good,” Yang groans, raising her hips, but Blake restrains herself from her instincts, flexing a hand down against Yang’s chest.

Their eyes are slow to meet, and Blake knows her eyes are contracting, staring down at Yang as if a predator. Looking at her prey dangerously, Yang’s both fearing and innocently enjoying that Blake can -- will devour her right then and there.

Blake looks at Yang with a heavy gaze, she can feel Yang’s heart beating in her chest, hear her own racing in her ears, both pounding together. There’s a small hair curl framing Yang’s jaw, a trickle of sweat glistening on her forehead, lilac eyes completely dazed, lips puffed and red, mouth hanging ajar just enough for Blake to see her tongue.

_ You’re looking at me like you love me  _ echoes in Blake’s head.

  
  
  


\--

  
  
  


Blake feels a warm touch to her cheek, another to her jaw, another to the corner of her lips, and then there’s the feel of lips against her own. A soft hello into her soul, like gentle rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon, missing the sky after a long restless night.

She slowly opens her eyes, eyelids feeling heavy. Looking up groggily, Blake sees bright lilac eyes staring down at her. There’s a goofy grin sitting on Yang’s face, Blake smiles in return, a small yawn on her lips.

“Hi beautiful,” Yang murmurs, leaning down again. The touch sends ripples down Blake’s spine, makes her skin all too warm.

Blake lets out a mixture of both a hum and sigh in contentment, tilting her head, the angle perfect to capture Yang’s lips. It was quick, sweet, and depressingly too short of a kiss, Blake longed for more. But Yang pulls away, smiling innocently as she takes a seat beside her on the chair, the air warming just right.

“Hi to you too,” she says, tasting peppermint on her tongue -- Yang’s favorite treat to have while driving. She stretches her neck, tensing her shoulders to let the sleep fall out of them.

“What were you working on?” Yang takes off her coat, glancing over at her dimly lit laptop on her lap.

It takes a moment for Blake to remember, still a bit dazed. “My final presentation for my corrections class, I thought I’d get a headstart on it before things start getting crazy,” she replies, closing the device.

She was reading a couple of articles about faunus who had recently gotten out of prison, and what their experiences of mistreatment was like -- she had gotten through three of them before she had to take a break, and eventually falling asleep.

“Mhmm, sounds very exciting. Lots of reading and writing, my favorite activity.”

“No need to bash. Not everyone has the capability to design and strategically compute programs for body parts and medical equipment.”

“Relax, babe. You know how much I love it when you’re all intense about faunus protective rights and their mistreatment. It’s hot, and such a turn on,” Yang says teasingly, a trap waiting for her, fresh bait, but Blake doesn’t go for it -- she knows better.

With a roll of her eyes, Blake suppresses a loose smile before her eyes immediately zone in on the paper bag in Yang’s hand, curious, hungry. “Aw, you didn’t have to bring me food.” 

Yang tuts, waving a hand. She pulls out a steamy small box. “Of course I did, the perks of working at Huntzie’s is I get food anytime I want for free. Plus, I know how much you love our anchovies, so I got a special order of creamy anchovy pasta with garlic crumbs.” Proud was definitely an understatement.

But Yang  _ did  _ know her.

Blake’s mouth curls at the corners, a comfortable smile tugging at her lips. She lets it.

Yang hands her the box and a fork, the smells and flavors, mixing, mingling in her nose, her mouth’s starting to water. Blake eagerly pokes at an anchovy, popping it into her mouth as Yang offers a sound of disgust, retreating to the other end of the chair.

“How was work tonight?”

It was Friday, the week after spring break, the last full week of March. That meant that academically, things were picking up, and slower nights at most restaurants.

“It was alright, considering it’s Friday. I was scrambling around for half an hour because Pyrrha had to miss her shift tonight and no one could cover for her. Apparently her coach threw a surprise press conference on her, but that meant double the money for me. But sucks to be her, she promised to buy me food from Burger Bop!”

Twirling her fork, Blake hums in response. “You’re not going to make her buy the whole menu for you, right?”

“I just might, it sounds tempting. You know how much I love a good burger, especially from Bop’s.”

“How could I forget? You’ve been getting take-out from there almost every weekend, I’m surprised you’re not getting it tonight,” she says, chewing.

“Nah, one of our chef’s accidentally made an extra appetizer of grilled portabella stuffed mushrooms, so Nora and I snacked on them.”

Taking another bite, Blake gives her a pointed look, curious. 

“What? I can eat vegetables,” Yang fires back, defensive. Blake makes no comment. “Sometimes, okay? I just need to be in the mood.” Blake takes another bite, the corner of her mouth twitches. “I’m just a meaty girl, I like my meat.”

“Oh baby, I know you are.” She vaguely imagines Yang between her thighs, her tongue skimming the inside of --

Yang coos, Blake doesn’t see the wicked smile on her lips. “What’re you thinking about?” Yang asks lowly, her voice almost a purr. Blake forces down a gulp. “You know, I’ve been waiting for you to buy that strap-on I want, I know you’ve been wanting to use it on me.”

The timing is impeccable, she drops it when Blake’s taking a sip of her water, who nearly spits it all out onto the floor. A few water droplets stream down her chin as she slowly swallows, her cheeks flushed, skin completely hot and bothered. Yang’s grinning proudly, eyes playfully darting down to her lips.

“You are  _ such _ an ass!” Blake hisses, turning away. She feels ignited, lit to life by fireworks

“But you love my ass, staring at it all the time, can’t keep your hands off --”

Blake nearly slaps her hand over Yang’s mouth, chewing. “Okay, that’s enough from you.” She was already thinking about kissing her way with Yang, she didn’t need to add to the pot.

They’re in a public space right now, though that actually never stops Yang, but rather it actually encourages her. Though Blake thinks that the health center setting would at least make Yang think twice about her actions.

Yang snickers, swiping away her hand to place a soft kiss on her cheek. “How’s she doing? Any updates?”

Her eyes glance over to Ilia, who’s sound asleep in her bed, her heart rate monitor beeping at a cadence. “She was already out when I got here.” Blake had only made it here earlier this evening, out of luck, she switched with Maureen and worked this morning after her class. “The medical officers said she was doing okay though. Everything checked out okay, but they did a brain scan and I’m waiting to hear the results.”

Ilia was discharged from her medical room about three and a half weeks after the accident, she had been doing fine, completely fine for a couple of months. She did have to move by wheelchair though, they didn’t want her to put any weight or stress on her back. There was underlying PTSD that Ilia had from the attack, so Weiss offered her apartment as a safe space for her, welcoming her into one of the guest rooms to stay -- and Ilia had accepted it. Even though they weren’t exactly on the best of terms, they both managed. Weiss has been rushing around, determined to finish her senior year on a good note, so she was in the library or at Blake’s or Ruby’s most of the time. That worked out for Ilia, it gave her space to herself, to heal and comfortably get back on her feet, especially since she was going back to school this semester.

Her stitches were taken out, and the cuts on her body were healing, scarring, but healing. She was pacing herself slowly, not walking or standing for long time periods.

Though, Ilia’s head injury was a different story -- they knew she had a brain injury. The extent of it, they were unsure about. They had to play it by the ear because anything involving the brain was always up in the air, the medical officers couldn’t do much about it. When she was discharged, memories were still clouded and mixed, there were a few times where she was unsure about reality almost.

Blake didn’t know the severity of it, Ilia never said anything, but earlier this week, she had relapsed. At first, it started as minor headaches, then Ilia started to forget -- when she worked, when her classes were, and yesterday, Ilia’s headache had become so severe that she passed out in the middle of her work shift. Weiss was working, and Blake was sitting at a table in the corner working on a paper for her French theater class.

The memory flashes through her head, she has to look away and find the comfort of Yang to help steady her.

“She’ll get better, it’ll just take some time,” Yang persists, her hand rubbing her thigh.

“That’s what we thought back in January.”

“Hey,” she urges, a nudge to her shoulder. Blake doesn’t look up from the floor, her mind absently counting the number of tiles on the floor. The container of food is uselessly sitting on her lap now, she’s lost her appetite. “There’s no rush for her to get better. She relapsed, that’s okay, Ilia will be okay.”

“It hurts to see her like this. When Adam attacked me, he was releasing all of his anger out on me, he was psychologically upset. He had to assert his dominance over me. But for Ilia, it was different. Adam was playing with her almost, toying with her mind, her body. And Ilia had to play the game otherwise he would’ve gotten bored with her and that’d just make things worse.”

Blake stifles a yawn, leaning her head down on Yang’s shoulder, sighing. She shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, shouldn’t be thinking about it at all. It hurts all too much to do this to herself.

They stay sitting in their bubble of comfort, leaning against one another for a while -- maybe for five minutes or fifteen, but it doesn’t matter. Once Blake’s breathing has slowed down and deepened, Yang takes that as her cue.

“Come on, let’s head home.” She whispers, grabbing her coat. Blake opens her eyes, yawning. “We’re going to my place, if that’s okay. Ruby’s staying the night over at Weiss’ tonight, so we could pop open a bottle of wine and watch a movie if you’d like.”

A small whine comes from Blake when Yang stands, a pout following. But Yang only smiles, sliding her arms through the coat sleeves.

“We’re heading home, you’ll be more comfortable in an actual bed, with a blanket over you.”

_ Home _

Blake raises her hands, unmoving, waiting for Yang to notice, which she quickly does, realizing what she’s asking for. Grabbing them, Yang heaves Blake up to stand, shaking her head.

“I’m not up to watching a movie. How about a show? We could start the second season of The Maiden.” She suggests, putting her coat on.

“Oh yes, I’ll make some popcorn and we can cuddle on the couch. Sounds like a perfect night.”

“You want to stop by the corner store on 4th? I think I ate all of the dark chocolate at your apart --” Blake cuts her sentence off when something catches her eye.

Deja vu hits her all over again, her eyes slowly settling on a dark red rosebud sitting at Ilia’s feet -- the familiarity of seeing it knots her stomach, completely flipping it. Blake feels as if she’s going to throw up.

There, perfectly lying on the white comforter on Ilia’s bed, is a wilted rose, a signature from him, another message. It wasn’t there before, it wasn’t.

Adam was here, in this very room when Blake was in here. He was  _ here _ .

“No,” she mutters. A series of questions rapid fires through her head, pulsating and crushing at the same time.

Blake supposes Yang must’ve caught on because she doesn’t hear her say or ask anything, not then at least. Their eyes are fixed on the rose, an exact replica of what Blake had seen in Ilia’s hand the day they found her.

She was asleep when he was in the same room as her, the things he could’ve done to her. This is worse, Blake thought. Worse than actually having to see him because Adam was so close to her, came in and left a message.

Blake was at her most vulnerable, and he was  _ here _ .

“He couldn’t have gotten in here, right? There’s no way.”

She doesn’t have an answer for her, voice lost, taken away from her. Everything was spinning for Blake, the room was spinning, things were moving too fast, too loud yet she couldn’t move.

“We need to leave now. We’ll text Weiss later tonight and see if we can get Ilia into a different room.” Blake hears shuffling behind her, but her eyes don’t leave the rose, completely paralyzed. “Blake.”

A tug at her hand snaps her out, she blinks, biting on her lip to keep the tears at bay. Yang’s looking at her, small flecks of red flashing in her eyes, her mouth in a thin line, her jaw set. Blake’s never seen this side of Yang before, a destructive storm, controlled and raging. The grip on her hand tightens, Blake doubts anything could pull them away from each other.

“Get your things, now please,” she mutters, low enough for only Blake to hear, and she swears there’s a shake to Yang’s voice.

Blake untwines their fingers, but Yang softly places her hand on Blake’s waist, standing between her and the door. Neither of them makes a comment. Packing her laptop and books into her bag, Blake wraps a scarf around her neck, pulling her beanie down, her ears flattening.

“Yang..”

“No, not now. We’ll talk about it when we get home, we need to get out of here.”

Not a minute later, they’re both walking out of the room, quietly walking down the hallway and into the elevator. Blake can easily hear their heartbeats, the sound a bass drum thumping in her ears.

Yang plays with the bands of her rings on her fingers, shuffling her weight from one foot to another. Blake pulls the strap of her bag further onto her shoulder, stepping closer to her girlfriend, pressing her side into her.

There’s so much unspoken anxiety between them, but Blake decides to wait, knowing Yang had said they’ll talk about it once they get home.

It seems like they’ll have to watch The Maiden some other time.

A ding chimes, opening the doors to the first level of the underground parking garage.

“Wait,” Yang urges, holding a hand out. She takes a hesitant step forward, poking her head out, carefully scanning the space, checking. It’s a habit, something Yang’s been doing since Ilia had gotten attacked. “Okay, let’s go.”

If Yang saw something else in the room, she kept it to herself when they exited out the elevator. But Blake doesn’t tell Yang what she saw on the rose, what was written within its petals, hidden in plain sight. Not now at least.

His voice rings in Blake’s ears when she slides onto the back of Bumblebee. His laugh echoes in her head even when Yang turns her key, the engine roaring. His touch, fingers and hands grabbing at her throat and arms, bruising and breaking when the motorcycle hums underneath her.

There’s a pop somewhere behind her, reminding her of Adam’s old motorcycle, but she doesn’t look back. It only makes Blake press her head into Yang’s back, clenching her teeth and clamping her eyes shut.

Yang drives out of the parking garage, quickening into the city, car horns and brakes screaming throughout the streets. Blake’s grip tightens around Yang’s waist, the want to be safe and secure within Yang arms beats in her body.

Something creeps up on her though, a shadow extending its reach as the sun disappears behind the clouds. A voice in the back of her head, almost demanding Blake to look over her shoulder, to correct herself that Adam’s not behind them, not following her to Yang’s apartment.

So Blake does.

Her golden amber eyes take a peek to look behind her, her breathing stills in her lungs.

A yellow taxi and two cyclists are the closest to them, but Yang speeds down the street and rounds a corner, then they’re beside a city bus.

She lets out a breath, turning to lean her cheek against Yang’s back, sighing. She can’t deal with this tonight, it’s too much.

But Blake can’t stop Adam’s whispering in her head, repeating what he wrote on the rose.

_ I’m coming, my love. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's fast paced, don't you think? With the time jumps, the crazy situations, the rush of things. But I kinda like it that way, college was always fast for me - I blink, take a nap, and suddenly I'm in a completely different setting, different day, different month. It's overwhelming. So, I'm projecting that onto Blake.
> 
> There you go guys!
> 
> I know it's a back and forth thing - Blake having issues, then having support, then dealing with her issues again, and spiraling downwards - but that's the reality of being scared, at least to me. You take a step forward, then two steps back, and it takes 10x the energy to get back where you started. I hope it's not a whiplash for you guys, sorry if it is.
> 
> Let's talk about Ilia - I'm sorry!! She's a sweetheart, an amazing character, and she means good! she'll be okay. I had to give her that little head kiss, cause I wanted to give her one myself.
> 
> The relationship Blake and Weiss has is, as you can tell, very personal to me. Weiss' figure in Blake's life is so important, they're so dependent on each other, not in the way Blake is to Yang - and I hope you guys can recognize that. Blake and Weiss have something that's just too powerful, a platonic friendship that goes to the means of hell itself and back. They're just something else, that's all I can say.
> 
> also, hope you guys enjoyed my bumbleby interaction in this :) *wipes sweat* it was intense, let's just put it that way
> 
> thanks so much for reading!! sorry to keep you guys waiting for so long, kind of going through some things right now. hope you guys enjoyed it!!

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, that wraps it for the first chapter! Thanks so much for reading, I promise that's probably the worst bit I can muster up. Well maybe for now.
> 
> I've been wanting to expand on Blake and Weiss' friendship, and oh my GOD, I had so much fun writing it! So much rich platonic love, I just, *chefs kiss*.
> 
> I don't know how long the next update will take, hopefully not long.


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